The Most Deadly Betrayal
by dublin writer
Summary: This is a what happened next story for the episode The Most Deadly Species. Having watched it the other night, I found myself wondering what could have happened next and this is what my overactive muse came up with. I hope you enjoy it. Disclaimer: The characters belong to Quinn Martin. I just borrow them to play with from time to time. :-)
1. Chapter 1

**The Most Deadly Betrayal**

 **A/N: This story came to me after watching the episode the other night. It is a few chapters long and is almost fully completed. therefore I hope to update it regularly as I work on my other updates. It was an episode that always made me wonder what happened after Steve looked so sadly up at Sydney's apartment and then went into his own at the end of the episode. This is merely my take on what might have happened next. Thanks for reading.**

Chapter 1

Steve dropped his keys wearily on the hall table and made his way to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and taking out three bottles of beer and heading back down the corridor to the living room. Placing the bottles down on the coffee table he shrugged clear of his jacket and dropped it on the back of the armchair before pulling his tie off with equal distaste and throwing it alongside the jacket not even batting an eyelid as it slid off and landed on the floor unceremoniously. Sinking heavily onto the couch he then kicked off his shoes and flicked them against the far wall, each thud almost giving him a mild satisfaction. He could feel the rage and hurt building inside him by the second now that he was safe and alone in the comfort and familiar surroundings of his private apartment. _How could he have been so gullible? How could he have read her so wrong?_

He felt used and almost contaminated. But most of all he just felt stupid. Worse still was the fact that Mike had see through her way before he had. That hurt almost more than the heartbreak of knowing that the strong feelings he had begun to have for her were unrequited and the embarrassment at being caught out so expertly and played for a fool in front of his partner stung like a sharp blade through his heart. Mike had wanted to keep him company but he hadn't felt up to seeing the pity in Mike's eyes. While he knew Mike would never ever tell him that he had told him so in so many words, he knew he would feel it between them and couldn't bear the thought of the shame he would feel at having been duped so easily.

Removing the first bottle cap he tilted his head back and gulped down a large swallow of beer, followed closely by a second long slug. He sighed with contentment as he tasted the beer that he hoped would help numb him even temporarily and eyed up the other two bottles on the table. He knew Mike wouldn't approve. Mike had often told him that alcohol was never the answer and most of the time Steve had agreed and abstained but tonight was different. Tonight, he was in too much emotional pain and he longed for something to ease it even a little as he quickly swallowed down the beer, draining it alarmingly fast and hoping the sudden hit would drown out the condemning and judgemental voices inside his own head along with the sweet memories of their time together that he couldn't seem to forget so easily.

Two more empty bottles later and he had started to feel the slight fog settling. He wasn't drunk, not by a long chalk but his brain was slowing which was the desired effect. He remembered the hidden gun she had pointed at him as Mike had arrived and warned him. His shock as her face had come into view as she had turned around. The way his stomach had jolted in that instant as the bottom fell out of his world and left him reeling in confusion and the almost instant realization that he had been played coldheartedly by a person he had felt such strong feelings towards. He remembered her words that had hurt as much as the bullet she had threatened to use on him would have. _"Nothing personal!"_ He felt his hand shake as he gripped the last empty beer bottle and without further thought he flung it in frustration against his living room wall, the glass smashing loudly as it exploded and shattered in all directions as he wrapped his arms around his chest as it heaved and his body shook. He felt the tears brim and sat there for several painstaking seconds before the moment passed and he stood and surveyed the unwitting mess he had just made in anger.

Rubbing his tear streaked face, he felt even more foolish as he stormed off, returning seconds later with a dustpan and brush and bent down to start to clean up the shattered glass. The pieces had splintered everywhere and it took him several minutes to clear most of them away, picking up the larger pieces more carefully with his fingers. As he reached for a particularly jagged piece, the doorbell rang and distracted and slightly foggy from the three bottles of beer he had consumed on an empty stomach, he swore under his breath as the glass sliced and he sucked the hurt finger in disgust as blood started to seep mercilessly through the jagged cut. Grabbing a nearby discarded tea towel he wrapped the offending finger and hurried to the door convinced it was Mike back to check up on him. Opening the door swiftly, he spoke firmly.

"Mike, you DON'T have to check up on me. I'M FINE! ..." but his words ebbed and quietened as he saw the frail form of his downstairs neighbor Mrs. Peterson instead on his door stoop.

"Mrs. Peterson! I'm ... I'm sorry. I ah ... I thought you were Mike ... Is ... is everything ok?" Steve flustered, hiding his wrapped finger behind his back purposefully.

It was unusual for Mrs. Peterson to make the trek up the many steps to his door and in the moment his own personal pain and torment were forgotten in his concern for the elderly woman he had grown very fond of.

"Well that was what I came up here to find out! I was just about to feed my Teddy and I heard glass breaking up here. I was worried that something was wrong. Are you ok Steve dear?"

Steve felt even more embarrassed now on hearing that he had worried his aging neighbor and brought her up so many steps unnecessarily. He cleared his throat and sighed apologetically.

"Oh! I'm sorry ... I ah ... just dropped a glass bottle" Steve lied purposefully, feeling too ashamed to tell his neighbor what had really happened. " I'm fine ... Sorry if I worried you. You know ah ... you shouldn't trek up all those steps with that hip of yours ... It's dangerous. Here let me help you back down safely. It's the least I can do."

Steve stepped over the stoop and went to take her arm, forgetting the bloody finger wrapped in a tea towel in the moment and as Mrs. Peterson spotted it she exclaimed in concern.

"Oh my! You've cut yourself. How bad is it?"

Now suddenly feeling decidedly sorry for having slowed his reactions with alcohol and now causing another unwanted scene, he flustered even more.

"Oh no... It's really not that bad. It's just a small cut. This was just the first thing I could find to wrap it with ... It makes it look worse than it is ... It's tiny really."

"Well we'll see about that. You really should be extra careful picking up glass my dear boy. When we get back down to my apartment I'll take a look at it for you. I was actually quite a good nurse in my early days you know before these hands got so old and twisted with arthritis. But I can still bandage a cut ... well with a little help maybe ... " she added as she took Steve's arm and steered him down the steps instead of the other way around without even giving him the opportunity to step back and close over his front door.

"Really Mrs. Peterson, there's no need to fuss. It will be fine."

"Nonsense. It's no trouble Steve. At my age, we like opportunities to be useful you know? They don't come by often."

Realizing that his neighbor needed to fuss over him as much for her own sake as his he didn't have the heart to protest further so he allowed her to hold his arm and made sure she watched her footing on the way back down the steps, realizing half way down he was still in his stocking feet. As they reached the door to her downstairs apartment, Steve glanced up at his door that was still gaping open.

"Listen Mrs. Peterson, I had better just go up and close my door first ..." he began but Mrs. Peterson grabbed his arm and pulled him inside as she spoke softly.

"Oh don't worry dear, this will just take a moment. Now ... where do I keep that first aid box?" she added distractedly.

Steve frowned and hoped it wouldn't take that long and then smiled as he heard the older lady's last question. Having rescued her from a nasty fall shortly after coming to live here, he knew she kept the said first aid supplies beneath her kitchen sink. Pointing in that direction, he guided her gently.

"It's beneath the kitchen sink Mrs. Peterson."

"Oh why of course it is ... Silly me ... "

Reaching over she pointed to a chair at the dining table and spoke firmly.

"You just sit yourself down there Steve and we'll have you fixed up in a jiffy ..." she instructed kindly as she headed for the kitchen sink.

Steve smiled again at her last word. _Jiffy? Well, that's a new one._ He sat down as requested and watched as Mrs. Peterson's over fed black and white cat Teddy slowly padded from the bedroom and jumped up onto the table to see who their visitor was. He purred in recognition as he spied Steve and came to rub his back along Steve's arm and purred again in satisfaction as Steve obliged and rubbed his sleek fur gently and tickled under his chin causing Teddy to then lie down and bare his tummy for attention. Steve laughed as he again obliged with a few soft pets and heard Teddy purr and wriggle in approval. Their interaction was interrupted as Mrs. Peterson returned with the medical box and an extra pair of glasses in her hands.

She gave no warning as she turned on the extra bright over head light and Steve winced and shut his eyes against the unexpected brightness as Teddy also disapproved and jumped up and off the table to go underneath it instead and started rubbing himself against Steve's leg instead. Recovering from the sudden blinding, Steve opened his eyes gingerly and watched as the older lady positioned herself across from him.

"Teddy likes you, you know? He doesn't act that friendly with many people. He trusts you. Animals can always sense kindness. " she added smiling warmly as she then took Steve's wrapped hand and gently unwrapped it.

Steve blushed and then winced at his elderly neighbor's ministrations, resisting the urge to groan in pain as the cut pulled and hurt like hell.

"I ah ... really shouldn't have put you to this trouble Mrs. Peterson ... "

"Steve, you really can call me Mary you know and it's really no trouble at all ... " she continued but then gasped as she saw the bloodied finger still oozing fresh blood. " Oh my! That looks nasty ... We had better take a close look at that. "

Placing the second pair of reading glasses in her hand on over her normal pair, Steve watched in amusement as she then held his bloodied finger up so she could study it in the light streaming from above. The double glasses made her eyes look extra big and Steve grinned at the sight. She often needed both pairs to see small things clearly and Steve had tried to tell her discreetly that she might need new glasses but each time he had broached the subject, she had insisted that she managed perfectly fine with the two pairs she had. Steve felt like hell and began to wonder if he reeked of alcohol after his recent indulgence. He ran his free hand nervously through his hair and then brought it down to cover his mouth self-consciously in case his breath gave him away. As Mrs. Peterson continued to study his finger he flustered a little at the older lady's previous words.

"I'm sorry ... it's just that my Grandfather brought me up to always call older ... ah more mature people by their full title. He used to say it was disrespectful to use their first names. I guess it's just always stuck with me ..."

Mrs. Peterson smiled.

"You are sweet Steve. Well if that's the case you can still call me Mrs. Peterson if it feels more comfortable for you to do so ..."

Steve nodded gratefully and then yelped involuntarily as Mrs. Peterson squeezed his finger and it sent a sharp unexpected pain shooting up his finger to the knuckle. Studying it even more closely the older lady shook her head in dismay.

"Oh dear! I'm afraid you still have a sliver of glass in this Steve. I'm going to need my trusty tweezers ..."

Steve frowned and winced again as he tried to look at the offending finger, still held protectively in the older lady's grip and couldn't see any glass. He figured the two pairs of glasses gave her a distinct advantage in seeing something so clear and small and just hoped she had said "trusty" tweezers and not "rusty" ones. He also hoped she was as proficient in its use as her upbeat tone had intimated. He watched as she expertly retrieved the said medical tweezers and with a surprisingly steady hand, she gripped, unseen to Steve's naked eye, something in his finger and without further warning extracted a long thin shard of jagged glass from the open cut as a steady flow of bright red blood followed its exit. Steve watched in horror as the sliver of glass came free and admired the fact that she had noticed it and extracted it so efficiently. _Maybe she was right and she didn't need new glasses after all!_

 _"_ There we are. All out! It shouldn't be as painful now." Mrs. Peterson announced proudly as she fetched some antiseptic and started dabbing some onto a cotton wool swab.

"Now just to clean it and cover it and you'll be free to get on with your evening. I expect you'll be seeing that nice young lady from upstairs again this evening. I hope you dont mind me saying but I couldn't help notice how friendly you two have become these last few days. Such a nice young lady. Sydney wasn't it? She introduced herself to me the other day when she was moving in. You two make such a nice couple you know?" Mrs. Peterson spoke freely and without even taking hardly a breath as she cleaned and bandaged the cut expertly, asking him in between the one sided conversation to place a finger on the bandage so that she could tie the knot securely.

The distraction of his throbbing, sore finger, the attention of his neighbor's cat and Mrs. Peterson's company had temporarily taken his mind off his earlier sadness but her words now brought the whole unpleasantness back instantly along with a constricting lump in his throat. Not feeling up to explaining the whole sorry and sordid details, Steve chose to give a subdued and condensed version of events for now. It was all he felt up to.

"Ah ... Syd ... Sydney's moved out Mrs. Peterson. She ah ... she won't be back again ..."

Steve struggled with the words and couldn't believe how hard it had been to even speak her name. The hurt was raw and it felt like there was a scar on his heart tightening every time he spoke of her. Mrs. Peterson sensed something was terribly wrong and suddenly regretted even mentioning their fleeting neighbor at all.

"Oh my! I am sorry to hear that ... I didn't expect her to leave so soon. She seemed so nice. "

Again Steve's voice faltered as he went to answer and he cleared his throat purposefully, desperately trying to keep his true feelings from his tone.

"Yeah ... Me either ... Turns out ... we ah ... didn't really know her as well as we thought we did ..."

Mrs. Peterson had lived long enough to recognize heartache when she saw it and as she finished her first aid, she grasped his arm compassionately and drew Steve's distracted attention back in her direction.

"I'm sorry Steve ... Truly, I am ..."

Steve smiled and nodded gratefully, changing the subject away from the current one he felt he just couldn't continue any longer and purposefully making sure his tone stayed nonchalant and uncaring.

"Thanks. Never mind! These things happen, right? Anyway ... wow! You did a terrific job on my finger. Thanks for that. "

Then standing up, he spoke in a flustered manner.

"Look I ah ... Better get back upstairs. I have work tomorrow and Mike won't be pleased if I don't get a good night's rest. Thanks again for the first aid."

Mrs. Peterson saw through his act and came after him to see him out. She wondered what the seemingly nice young lady had done to hurt the young man so badly and felt a distinct annoyance at the young woman for causing such a reaction in her kindly young neighbor. She often joked with him that he should find a nice girl and settle down. If anyone deserved a "special someone" she felt it was the selfless and polite young neighbor she had grown so fond of and had become to look on like the son she had never been blessed with. As they reached her front door, Mrs. Peterson suddenly clasped his arm gently a second time and risked a comment she hoped would be taken the way it was intended.

"Steve, please don't take this the wrong way but ... well ... alcohol isn't the answer for a broken heart, you know? ... Obviously I don't know what she did but I do know you didn't deserve whatever it was and you must rise above it and not let it affect you. You're better than that and if she couldn't see that, then ... well then that's her loss Steve ... And she didn't deserve you. "

Her words almost floored him as his cheeks reddened and he looked down shamefully, knowing her words would echo what Mike's reaction would be as well had he been here. He nodded again gratefully and spoke reassuringly.

"Yeah ... I know ... Don't worry. I ah ... I know that and I ... I appreciate your words ... Goodnight Mrs. Peterson ... oh and don't forget to lock this door behind me, ok? "

"Yes, I will. Goodnight Steve dear ..." Mrs. Peterson responded as Steve saw the visible pity in her eyes and stepping across the door stoop, he also noticed how much darker it had become in the time he had spent in his elderly neighbor's ground floor apartment. Gently closing her door behind him, Steve took several deep breaths of the night air, making sure he heard the older lady draw the bolts across and turn the lock before turning quickly to hurry back up to his apartment.

As he bounded up the steps in the dark, in his stocking feet, taking two at a time, he got to his open front door and stepped inside just as he heard movement coming from his living room, feeling his heart rate quicken as he suddenly realized he had an unexpected visitor. Wondering if it was maybe Mike, he quickly peered outside and looked up and down Union Street but saw no sign of Mike's car or any other car he recognized for that matter so his police instinct kicked in and sidestepping into the hall and pushing himself up against the wall, he reached around to silently unclip his holster and retrieve his gun as quietly as he could manage. Holding it now in his right hand he inched along the wall as he heard someone step on the broken glass inside and again cursed the fact that he had drank as much as he had, hoping it didn't slow his reactions too much when he now needed them the most.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Most Deadly Betrayal**

Chapter 2

Steve got right next to his living room door and taking one long and deep steadying breath he moved quickly into the doorway and pointed his weapon at the back of the intruder in the now darkened living room, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was hammering and keeping a quick sideways glance down the hall in case there was a second intruder somewhere else in his apartment that could surprise him at any second.

"Freeze! Put your hands up where I can see them and don't move a muscle."

The unidentified intruder froze where he stood as he heard the unmistakable sound of the safety catch being removed from the weapon now pointed at him and he quickly spoke as he lifted his hands immediately into the air.

"STEVE, take it easy ... it's MIKE! "

Squinting into the darkened room, he quickly flicked the light switch on and secured his 38" again hastily away from his now illuminated partner as he released the breath he had been holding in as his heart rate and labored breathing gave away the fright Mike had just given him.

"MIKE? ... What the HELL were you thinking? I could have just shot you! You scared the hell out of me ..."

Mike dropped his hands, turned and spoke.

"Scared the hell out of YOU? I was the one the gun was pointing at you know?"

Steve conceded that fact and half smiled as he answered in an embarrassed tone.

"Yeah, yeah sorry. You just startled me that's all. I thought it was a burglar ... or worse."

"I'm sorry too Buddy boy. I didn't mean to startle you but when I arrived your door was wide open. I knocked but when there was no answer, I got worried and came in and then saw all this broken glass. Where were you? And what happened?"

"Where was I? Mike, where's your car? I looked outside but I didn't see it."

"I had to park around the corner because all the parking spaces were gone."

"And where's your fedora? You know if you'd had that on, I might have recognized you sooner."

"I took it off when I came into your living room. I usually do when I enter someone's house as you well know. It's on the couch over there. Now will you please answer MY questions. WHERE were you and what the hell happened?"

As Steve's heart rate began to settle a little, he flustered uneasily.

"I ah ... I was downstairs ... with ah ... Mrs. Peterson ..."

"Well why did you leave your front door open? That's not a safe thing to do, you know? And what happened with the broken glass? And what HAPPENED to your HAND?" Mike exclaimed in alarm as he suddenly spotted the makeshift bandage.

"MIKE! Enough with the forty questions, alright? I just ... dropped something and ... cut my hand cleaning up the glass. Mrs. Peterson heard the glass break and came up to see if I was ok and insisted on taking care of the cut. ALRIGHT? You happy now? Now it's your turn, what ... what are YOU doing here Mike?"

Mike grinned broadly and then lifted a hand to appeal for patience before reaching behind him and producing a pizza box and a bottle of red wine.

"I brought dinner" he announced proudly but his smile soon faded as he saw Steve's face remaining unimpressed and then heard Steve's subdued voice in reply.

"Mike look ... I appreciate the gesture, I really do but I told you earlier I'm ... just not very good company tonight. It's been one hell of a day and ah ... I'm really not very hungry."

Mike stepped forward and lowering the box and bottle, he spoke in a low, sympathetic tone.

"Steve, I know what you said earlier and I know it looks like I was checking up on you and going against your wishes but it's not that at all. I was getting myself something for dinner anyway and I figured you probably wouldn't bother so I just brought one to share. No strings attached whatsoever. I promise. I just want to see you eat something, that's all. You're right. It HAS been a long day and neither of us have eaten since this morning. Starving yourself is just going to bring on one of your migraines and that would be the last thing you need on top of everything else right now, huh? Besides ... it's NOT from Tony's ..." Mike added in an enticing voice, knowing how much Steve hated the food that Tony served up.

Steve had listened in quiet dismay but at the last sentence, his interest piqued. He lifted Mike's hand that held the Pizza box and he read the name emblazoned across the front. Mike heartened as he saw the young man's face light up briefly.

"Is this from that new place that opened up on the Wharf?" he asked and there was a faint touch of excitement behind the question. Mike grinned again and nodded enthusiastically.

"That's right. The one you kept saying everyone was raving about and you wanted to try and look Buddy boy ..." he said, opening the box with a flourish " No anchovies."

Steve half smiled, touched by the lengths Mike had gone to just to make sure he would eat something. He HAD been wanting to try their pizzas for a while now so despite not feeling very hungry, he spoke gratefully.

"Ok ... ok, you've convinced me. Just ah ... let me clean up a little and then I'll get us some plates and napkins. But Mike ... I ... I don't feel like talking, ok?"

Mike's smile widened.

"Sure ... Absolutely ... Eating, no talking. But you ah ... might want to close your front door first, huh?"

Steve nodded humorously before heading back out into the hall to do just that. Then coming back in, he saw Mike bent down clearing up the remainder of the broken glass. Rushing forward, he flustered.

"That's ok Mike. I can do that ..."

Taking the dustpan off Mike he finished the task and then left the living room briefly before returning to pick up the remaining empty beer bottles off the table. He could feel Mike watching him and felt a pang of guilt and embarrassment. His eyes traveled up to meet Mike's and he spoke quietly.

"I know what you're thinking Mike. Look, I just needed them this evening, ok?"

Mike held up his hands in mock surrender and spoke casually.

"Relax Buddy boy ... I didn't say anything, did I?"

"You didn't have to ... I know how you feel about well ... this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing? You mean your liquid diet this evening? "

Steve's cheeks flushed again at Mike's damning phrase and he nodded sheepishly.

"Yeah ... Look, I'm not drunk Mike, ok? I mean it was just a few beers. "

"I never said you were Steve. Like I said ... I just want to see you eat something, that's all."

Mike's tone remained nonjudgmental yet Steve's conscience still burned. He left with the empties and returned moments later with two plates, napkins, a cork screw and two wine glasses and set them down on the coffee table in front of the couch. He wasn't sure if Mike was going to approve of him partaking in the wine after his already consumed alcohol but he was taking the chance anyway. He wasn't quite as numbed yet as he wanted to be and the wine looked promising. He turned on the corner lamp and turned off the glaring center light, giving the room a more comfortable feel before pulling the curtains and sitting down heavily on the couch beside Mike, remembering the fedora at the last minute and pulling it out from under him hastily before it was too late. Holding the rescued hat in his grasp and breathing heavily from the near disaster he handed it sheepishly to Mike, as he watched Mike's face staring at him unnervingly.

"Oops! ... That nearly turned out bad ... Sorry" he stammered nervously as Mike's glare softened and he took the hat from the younger man and placed it where it would be safer from now on as the silence lengthened between them.

Steve noticed that Mike had removed his coat and jacket and watched as he opened the bottle of wine and poured him a full glass before filling his own and opening the pizza box and placing two slices on each plate and handing him one.

"Thanks ..."

The next few uncomfortable minutes were filled with eating the pizza which turned out to be every bit as good as others had said it was. Despite not feeling very hungry to begin with, Steve even found himself enjoying the offered meal and managed three slices before the silence started to get to him. Mike had been true to his word and hadn't talked at all except to compliment the pizza and praise Steve for managing to eat some. Steve had drank his glass of wine quite quickly and was slightly surprised that Mike didn't object when he reached over and refilled it just as fast. Steve noticed that while the older man had eaten his share of pizza, he hadn't hardly touched his glass of wine. The pent up feelings today had generated came back as they shared their meal and the extra alcohol now in his system was making him feel even more vulnerable and ill at ease.

Unnoticed by Steve, Mike was watching his young partner closely. It wasn't like his young partner to resort to alcohol to that extent after a day's work and Mike knew as a result that he was hurting more than he was letting on. The broken bottle hadn't been fully explained either and that bothered him too but he knew well enough to bide his time and wait for Steve to open up in his own time. He knew from experience that the silence would work soon enough and until them he would wait and watch and be ready to help when the inevitable happened. He watched as Steve dropped his last half eaten slice of pizza back onto his plate and drank another time from his glass. It was getting close now, he could tell. Steve's nervous movements were increasing. He was rubbing his mouth and chin more and more and Mike frowned as he watched Steve refill his glass again and suddenly regretted not bringing sodas instead of the bottle of wine. He hadn't expected Steve to resort to alcohol to drown his sorrows having never done it before. He watched Steve turn and stare at him briefly after he had refilled the glass before he looked away again to stare at the far wall.

Mike didn't have to wait much longer. After two more swallows of wine, Steve dropped the glass back onto the coffee table and sighed heavily, slouching back against the couch and unable to hold back the hurt any longer as the further alcohol only intensified the hurt and betrayal he felt and dulled his defenses, he spoke with a level of angst and upset in his voice that moved Mike deeply.

"How could I have been so stupid, Mike? She used me ... Played me for a fool and I fell for it, hook, line and sinker ... I honestly didn't see it coming ... Why didn't I SEE it Mike? I mean ... Am I really THAT gullible?".

As he spoke he rubbed both hands though his hair and Mike could both see and hear the upset churning through him but what worried Mike the most was the fact that he seemed to be questioning his own abilities to be a good police officer. He couldn't let that go and so he quickly jumped into the conversation.

"Hey, hey! Now wait just a minute. You are not THAT gullible, alright? You've seen through many cold blooded killers since we've been partners. Its just that sometimes ... well ..."

" ... I get a little distracted if they have a pretty face, right?" Steve added with a tone of self contempt that annoyed Mike as he quickly responded

"Steve, that's NOT what I was going to say. It's just that sometimes when you care for someone, you get a blind spot but that's not exclusive to you. We all get those from time to time. That's the reason we have partners to begin with. So that we have another pair of eyes and an objective view looking at things that well ... that maybe we can't see for ourselves sometimes. Just like with Chris Bane. You remember that case, don't you? He was an old friend and I never saw that he was leaving us clues to take suspicion off himself, did I? You came up with that. You saw straight through him and you helped me see the truth even when ... when I didn't want to believe it ... We all have our blind spots Buddy boy. That doesn't make you a bad cop. It makes you a human one ..."

Steve stared at Mike silently but Mike could see the moisture glistening in his eyes. He watched as Steve picked up his wine glass again and drank some more and Mike feared that the young man was hurting more than he had even envisaged. Then came the words that shook him inside as he watched Steve stare into his wine glass dolefully.

"I really liked her Mike. I mean ... I was really falling for her, you know? I really thought she felt the same way ... "

Mike saw him then drain his glass and reach for the bottle to pour some more and he dry swallowed and drank some of his own wine to moisten his throat as he chose his next words carefully. Steve was drinking the wine way too fast and he had to get him to stop before it turned ugly. He had read the signs over the last few days and had seen the young man fall for the beautiful stranger who had moved just next door. He had teased the young man about an impending marriage but behind the teasing he had seen the possibility of a serious relationship developing between them, at least from what he had judged from Steve's side of things. That's what had made the discovery of her as the killer all the more painful for him. Steve was displaying all the signs of a broken heart and a shattered confidence. His first priority had to be to console and try and bolster the young man's confidence back to what it had been before Sydney Bruce had entered his life so coldly and purposefully. He reached tentatively across and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder and spoke in a sympathetic tone.

"I know you did Buddy boy ..."

Steve then snorted derisively and added with the same self loathing as earlier surfacing in his tone.

"What a fool, huh? ... God, I feel so stupid Mike ..."

He felt Mike squeeze his shoulder and hated himself even more for this display of weakness in front of the one man he admired and respected above all others.

"Steve, you are NOT stupid. She played you ... and she pulled it off expertly. She was a good actress and I would imagine you weren't the only man she ever conned either. You had no way of knowing she wasn't who she claimed to be ..."

"Oh come on Mike. She didn't fool you, did she?"

"Now wait a minute. I didn't suspect her at first either you know. I ... well I was just a little concerned that she seemed to be moving so fast with you that's all. I didn't even start to suspect her until ... well until Lloyd Davies turned up dead ..."

Mike saw Steve's face darken at those words and instantly regretted mentioning the deceased hit man. He watched as Steve downed half the third glass of wine in one go and spoke firmly.

"Hey, hey go easy will you? I think maybe you've had enough for one night. "

"No, no I don't think so ... I haven't had near enough yet ... Dear God Mike. That guy's dead because I ... I blabbed about the case ... I dont know what I was thinking Mike ..."

Mike could feel the palpable guilt and angst emanating from the young man beside him. He knew the debilitating alcohol wasn't helping and could see it was starting to have negative effects on the young man beside him. He had to get the glass away from him but first things first, he had to get through to Steve somehow.

"Now LISTEN TO ME! You said yourself you never gave his name to her and mark my words, she was that calculating that she would have gotten that information from somewhere else all by herself even if you hadn't said a word. Now Davies lived by the gun and he died by it and if she hadn't killed him well ... there would have been a long line of people out there waiting for their chance to do it for her ... It was only a matter of time so don't you DARE try to blame yourself for THAT!The day he killed Murray Brennan's son he wrote his own death certificate and he was in the game long enough to know the risks he was taking when he did. As for talking about the case, do you think I never discussed any cases with Helen? Well? I did ... Many times. You have a hard day at the office, of course you need to tell someone about it. It's what keeps us cops sane ... Like you did, I ... well I wouldn't give her specific details but she listened and she understood. That's all you were trying to do. Have someone listen ..."

"Helen was your wife Mike. Sydney was ... well I don't know what the hell she was anymore ... I don't even know if that was her real name ... "

Mike watched as Steve stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at him, his expression pained and his eyes definitely starting to look slightly glazed.

" ... Was it?"

Mike shook his head solemnly.

"No ... Her name was Sally Banning. But she WAS from New York ..."

A loud sigh left Steve's lips as he seemed to sink further back into the couch, nursing his wine glass in his lap, hanging on to it as if for dear life.

"Great ... So one piece of her story wasn't a lie, huh? Still ... It's no excuse Mike. I shouldn't have said anything ... I'm sorry ..."

"Steve, don't dwell on it, ok? You'll just drive yourself crazy. Just chalk it down to experience and learn from it. That's my advice. "

Steve nodded dolefully but the returning memories were just making his heartache worse. The alcohol now free flowing through his bloodstream was making his usual restraint harder and he found the words flowing more freely now, needing to be expressed.

"Mike ... I was with her last night ... I mean she ... she'd just killed that guy in cold blood the night before, right? And then when I got home yesterday evening she ... came on to me and slept with me just like ... like she'd done nothing wrong ... "

Mike sucked in a deep breath as he heard Steve's words that came out in broken, heart wrenching sentences and then saw him shudder at the very thought. Steve never discussed things like this with him and he knew that without the courage he had just gotten from the alcohol, he most definitely wouldn't have even brought it up at all but it worried Mike that it was bothering the young man so much. For a rare moment he found himself lost for words as to how to console him so instead he waited for Steve to continue. He didn't have to wait long.

"I mean ... what kind of a sick person do you have to be to be able to switch personalities like that? She was a cold blooded killer but ... she wasn't like that with me Mike. She was warm and sweet and ... How did I not pick up on those vibes? My gut normally picks things like that up ... but not this time ... I ah ... I just can't get my head round it Mike. I thought ... after what we shared and we did ... I really thought it meant something, you know? But she was just ... using me ... She ... she would have shot me Mike ... If you hadn't come along when you did ... I wouldn't be talking to you now ... I'd have been Bernie's new corpse to autopsy ... I never saw the gun ... I was too stunned that it was her ..."

Those last words sent a cold chill up Mike's spine as he saw a tear escape and fall down Steve's cheek as the young man stared into his wine glass, his broken heart now almost palpable as the sound of his heaving breaths filled the silence in the room. Steve's words evoked a harrowing vision of Steve on Bernie's Autopsy table and it was then Mike's turn to shudder. He silently thanked God in that moment that he had managed to get there in time to warn his young partner about the hidden gun. The fact that Steve had even admitted not seeing it, showed Mike the level of hurt and shock that seeing her as the killer had generated in him.

He had to speak. To say something wise and meaningful but the young man's deep hurt was affecting him more than he had hoped it would. For a brief second he felt in over his head and almost wished Lenny was there to help with the comforting. He thought about what Lenny would say if he were there and from that thought and his own feelings he managed to form his next sentence. Reaching out to squeeze Steve's arm this time in support he spoke softly and yet firmly.

"Steve ... It goes without saying that I'm glad you weren't Bernie's next client so to speak ... But, you can't be sure she would have pulled that trigger ... From what you said, maybe when she was with you, she found a part of herself that she'd left behind a long time ago. Maybe you brought the best out of her, huh? Maybe ... just maybe now ... when you were together she showed you the real Sally Banning and not the cold killer Sydney Bruce, huh?"

Mike's well meaning words of comfort didn't help and Steve shook his head violently.

"No ... no I don't believe that. I was just a mark Mike ... A part of her plan ... You heard her. Nothing ... personal ..."

Those last two, almost spat out words, held a unspeakable hurt, beyond words and Mike watched him even closer to try and figure out what to say next. Before he could reply Steve continued in the same heart wrenching tone.

"I saw it Mike. In her eyes as she pointed that gun. They were cold Mike ... Cold and empty. She didn't care about me ... I was expendable. It was like I was looking at the same Sydney but the same Sydney wasn't looking back at me ..."

Mike couldn't bear to listen to the self contemptuous tones coming from his usually confident and full of life partner. He had to say something to pull him back from the brink of despair that he was so obviously teetering on the edge of. This time grabbing Steve's arm he spoke loudly, drawing a distinct wince from the young man but also catching his complete and undivided attention.

"STEVE! Now I want you to listen to me and listen good. Maybe you're RIGHT. Maybe she would have killed you and not cast a second thought about it ... OR ... Maybe I'M right and maybe she wouldn't have found herself able to pull that trigger. Either way we'll never know and I doubt she'll ever tell us so ... it is what it is. Yes ... you were used and that feels lousy but you can't let this break you. You HAVE to get your head past this and move on and do whatever you have to do ... or need to do to help that happen. Do you HEAR me now? You're better than this and you deserved better than how she treated you but well ... as you well know ... Life is NOT fair and so we have to make the most of whatever it throws at us and still stay standing ..."

Steve winced again as the pressure on his arm increased as Mike struggled with the intense need to get Steve past this hurt and back to his former self. Speaking in a pained and slightly slurred voice he wriggled his arm under Mike's hold.

"Mike ... you're hurting my arm ..."

Mike froze at those words and let go quickly of Steve's arm and covered his mouth with his hand as he realized he had been a little too forceful with his advice. Watching as Steve rubbed at where he had held his arm too tightly, Mike stammered an emotional apology.

"I'm sorry Buddy boy ... I just hate to see you like this. I've been there before and it's not nice ... I just don't want you to fall apart because of this ... "

Steve stared at Mike, now feeling even worse that he had upset the older man by his behavior and words and he in turn reached out and patted Mike's arm gently.

"It's ok Mike ... I shouldn't be talking like this. You're right. What's done is done. "

With that he lifted the wine glass and downed it fully before Mike could stop him and reached for the remaining wine left at the end of the bottle, but Mike had recovered by then and grabbed it away before he could get it, holding it just out of his reach.

"STEVE! NO! The answer to your problems is NOT in this bottle or ANY bottle for that matter. Now you've had ENOUGH ..."

"Mike ... Please ... Give me the bottle, will ya? You said I needed to do what I needed to to get over this right? Well right now I need THAT. "

"The HELL you do. No way ... Not this ... I meant time off or to speak with Lenny or to take a trip somewhere. GO SKIING! ANYTHING but THIS. "

Steve made another swipe for the bottle but Mike moved it away again in perfect time as Steve's slowed reflexes were no match for Mike's perfect ones. Mike's heart felt like it constricted as he heard the pained voice that followed from his young partner as another errant tear rolled down and followed the earlier one.

"Mike ... PLEASE ... I just need to feel numb ... Just for tonight, I promise ... I just ... need ... to feel numb."

Steve sat forward and placed his elbows on his knees, both hands now covering his face as the upset proved too much to contain in his current intoxicated state as his body shook and tortuous muffled sobs came from behind his tightly pressed hands.

 **A/N : Thanks for the follows and the kind feedback on this story so far. Also a quick shout out to EKWTSM9** **for the inspiration to write a drunk Steve into my story after being inspired by her story** **Appalachian Dead Draw. Cheers!... ;-)  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Most Deadly Betrayal**

Chapter 3

Mike sat staring at his young partner for several unnerving seconds as he witnessed the rare sight of Steve's implosion. In the three years of being partnered with Steve, he had only seen him this upset a couple of times and had never witnessed it under the influence of alcohol. Steve was, what he considered to be, a sensible drinker. He drank moderately and on the few occasions he had seen his young partner a little the worst for wear from alcohol it was normally at a party or special occasion. He remembered last Christmas specifically when Steve had stayed over on Christmas day and the celebration had got slightly out of hand. The bottle of fine whiskey that Rudy had given him for a present had been consumed a little too readily by him and Steve and Mike had noticed that when Steve got drunk he never got loud or boisterous but instead he tended to get giddy first and then quickly got sleepy afterwards.

But this situation was different. Carefully placing the bottle of wine down beside the couch out of Steve's reach, Mike then placed a supportive arm around Steve's heaving shoulders and spoke this time more softly and with understanding.

"Steve, I understand. Believe me I do but ... That won't make you numb ... Quite the opposite actually. It just makes you feel worse. You'll just end up throwing up, getting a king-sized headache and tomorrow well ... you'll just feel ten times as bad as you do now. Trust me on this, will you I ... I know ..."

Something about the way Mike spoke his last two words caught Steve's attention and dropping his hands away from his face, he turned sideways to stare unnervingly at the older man through tear filled eyes. The way Mike had described the effects of trying to use alcohol to forget, felt personally experienced and he slurred incredulously.

"You ... KNOW?"

Mike swallowed hard and then nodded his head slowly.

"Yes ... That's what I said. You see ah ... after Helen died ... I ... well I guess you could say I went to pieces. Jeannie was in Sacramento with her Aunt Jessica and she wanted to come home. I felt I wasn't ready to look after her when at the time I ... well I wasn't really coping myself very well with what had happened. Then this particular day she ah ... she ran away ... Tried to come home herself ... Can you believe that? Thank God, Jessica found her at the bus depot safe and sound ... I felt it was my fault for leaving her there so long so I went and collected her ... After she went to bed that night, it all hit me I guess. I was all she had left. And she was all I had ... and I'd almost lost her too ... I was going to have to raise her by myself without ... without Helen and that night ... I wanted to be numb too Steve ... So I did what you're doing now but I didn't get numb. I ... I ended up sick as a dog on the bathroom floor for most of the night, crying like a baby while a nine year old girl stood outside the door asking me if ... if her Daddy was ok?"

Steve heard the older man's voice break and could feel as well as hear the pain and upset reliving that memory evoked. He gasped as the story unfolded and his own sadness seemed suddenly insignificant in comparison to what Mike had gone through. Again in a despairing and incredulous tone he spoke again in a slurred voice.

"God Mike ... Jeannie woke up? She ... she saw you ..."

Steve saw the older man's face darken at the memory and saw moisture clearly glistening in his eyes.

"She woke up alright but ... she didn't see me ... Thank God! I told her it was just something I ate ... but my POINT in telling you all this is I've been there Steve and I wouldn't recommend it, let me tell you ... You've had more than enough already, Buddy boy. Please? Just give me the glass and listen to me, will you?"

Steve sighed heavily and looked down at the glass in his hand. He thought of Mike and what he'd been through and without further protest he handed the empty glass to Mike and nodded.

"You're right ... You ah ... you always are ..."

He half smiled as his words came out and then he rubbed at his eyes and face in an embarrassed fashion. Now he felt even worse for causing Mike to relive a particularly unpleasant moment in his life. His head was starting to spin while the pizza that had tasted so good earlier now wasn't sitting so well in his stomach. As Mike turned to place the glass back onto the table, Steve shuddered violently and Mike spotted it out of the corner of his eye and turned back, placing a firm hand on the young man's shoulder out of concern. The colour was draining from his partner's face at an alarming rate and Mike feared he hadn't managed to stop him in time.

"Steve? What's the matter? You alright?"

Steve swayed a little where he sat and struggled to answer.

"I ah ... I'm not sure ... I think I feel ah ... a little queasy."

Mike scowled and held him tighter.

"Well I can't say I'm surprised. You were downing that wine way too fast Buddy boy. You should know better than that! Wine should be sipped not slugged ... Ok, look just sit back and take it easy. I'm going to go and get you some water. You need to re-hydrate. I'll make us some coffee too just in case we need it, alright? Just don't make any sudden movements, ok?"

He leaned Steve back against the back of the couch and watched as Steve barely nodded and laid his head back and closed his eyes worryingly. He could feel the slight tremor running through the young man's body as the alcohol hit his blood stream a little too fast and was causing a sudden imbalance that was knocking him for six. Standing up, Mike leaned over him, not liking what he was seeing at all.

"Are you going to be ok there for a few minutes Steve?"

Again Steve nodded but he was breathing a little too fast for Mike's liking.

"Ok, just relax. I'll be back in a jiffy ..." Mike added quickly as he picked up the remainder of the wine and both wine glasses, making sure he left no temptation behind him and made a hasty retreat towards the kitchen.

 _Jiffy! There was that word again. How come all of a sudden everyone around him was calculating time in jiffies? How long was a jiffy anyway?_ Steve's addled and dizzy head was starting to ramble. He shook his head to clear it and instantly regretted the move as the room spun alarmingly and his stomach lurched from the sensation. He wrapped an arm around his stomach in a vain attempt to control the growing urge to expel whatever was still in it, that was building by the minute. Mike's voice drifted down the hall from the kitchen as Steve bravely tried to fight back the nausea.

"STEVE? Where do you keep your coffee again?"

He could hear Mike opening and closing presses and struggled to shout back an answer.

"The press above the percolator " he finally managed but the loud tone he had needed to use only made his head feel worse.

He allowed himself a loud groan as he hoped Mike was sufficiently far enough away not to hear it and tried to follow Mike's earlier instructions to stay as still as possible but his stomach was not obeying those instructions in the least. It churned and rolled and Steve at one point couldn't hold back a sudden gag that caused hot bile to burn the back of his throat. He could hear Mike talking to him from the kitchen, relaying a story of some kind but his concentration was now fully on trying to stop himself from throwing up and causing more embarrassment for himself that he could really do without this evening.

"You remember Charlie Ames, don't you Steve? He was a Sergeant in Narcotics."

Another snippet of Mike's one sided conversation filtered in to Steve but the young man knew that answering could prove disastrous as he gagged again and swallowed back more offending bile. Luckily Mike didn't seem to wait for his answer and continued regardless.

"Got drunk one time ... A retirement bash ... Lee Fleming ... had to drag him out of a bar ... That seedy one over on ... Boy was he drunk! ... "

Only snippets of Mike's story were filtering through to Steve, who now knew he was fighting the inevitable. He was going to have to try and make it to the bathroom and fast. He wasn't even sure if fast was a speed he was going to be able to achieve in his current shaky state but the alternative didn't even bear thinking about. Pulling himself forward as gingerly as he could he pushed himself slowly up on his feet and his stomach heaved again as he righted himself and wobbled precariously. Suddenly getting drunk didn't seem so sensible anymore. Steve barely managed to stop his stomach from emptying there and then and gagging now repeatedly he knew he had no choice but to just make a clumsy run for it.

He grabbed the door frame and pushed his legs forward albeit not in a straight line and eyed up the bathroom door a little way up the hall. He knew it was going to be a close call but he had to at least attempt it. He thought about calling Mike who was still talking and regaling Steve about the aftermath of someone called Charlie Ames' drunken binge but there was no time. So propelling himself forward bravely, he staggered down the hall as fast as his wobbly legs would take him and barging the bathroom door open in his haste and urgency, he practically fell down onto the hard linoleum floor and barely made the toilet bowl with seconds to spare, as the horrendous ordeal of throwing up began.

Mike who had the coffee now percolating and was filling a glass with water to bring into Steve, had just finished his tale of overindulgence in the hope Steve was taking life lessons from his words, when he heard the staggered, almost panicked movements out in the hall and heard the loud bang as the bathroom door was thrown open unceremoniously. He put down the glass in horror and shouted as he headed for the doorway.

"STEVE? You OK?"

As he reached the hallway, he heard the loud unmerciful thump as Steve landed followed by the most horrendous sound of vomiting he had ever heard. Racing up the hall to the bathroom, he froze momentarily as he saw Steve spreadeagled across the floor, his head perched over the bowl and both hands shakily supporting his upper body off the floor. He quickly raced inside and over to Steve, grabbing his midsection to pull him more forward so that he was now fully supported by Mike and better positioned for the task at hand. Steve's shaky hands, now freed from their arduous task of having to try and hold him up, dropped by his sides weakly as the agonizing episode continued. Mike was behind Steve now with one arm wrapped around Steve's midsection and the other hand holding his clammy forehead as he spoke soothingly.

"Alright now ... That's it ... Get rid of it! ... Don't worry now ... I've got you ... You'll be ok ... It's just your body trying to tell you it can't cope with what you just forced into it ... I told you, you drank that wine way too fast ...

Heave upon heave assaulted him and he was barely getting a chance to take a breath between expulsions. Mike could feel every dramatic heave in Steve's diaphragm from where he was supporting him and sympathized.

"Oh God Steve ... You have it really bad ... It will be over soon ... Just hang on in there Buddy boy ..." Mike's words continued until everything Steve had consumed in at least the last half hour had been expelled successfully

After what seemed like an eternity to Steve but in reality was probably closer to ten or twelve minutes, the frightening episode seemed to stop and Steve, drained and exhausted practically collapsed back against the older man, dead weight now in his arms, his breathing labored which only made conversation more difficult.

"God ... Sorry ... Mike ... I ... I couldn't stop it ..."

"Shush now. Don't try to talk. It's alright ... THAT, believe it or not, was probably the best thing that could have happened! "

Reaching over as best as he could under Steve's weight, Mike scrunched up his nose at the sight and pervading odor of what the young man had recently discarded and quickly pulled the flush handle to get rid of it and make their current situation at least a small bit more tolerable.

"Looks like most of the wine you just downed so fast came back so hopefully that's less to metabolize in your system." Mike added, still shuddering a little from having witnessed it and then added in a humorous tone. "Waste of a good pizza though ..."

His quip was rewarded by a weak chuckle from Steve whose breathing was starting to settle and he heard the weak reply that followed the weak laughter.

"Yeah ... Sorry about that ... Especially ... when you went to so much trouble to bring it."

Mike chuckled, trying to see the funny side of their current predicament out of desperation and wanting to hear more laughter from Steve. It was music to his ears after the contrasting, tortuous sickness, upset and angst from earlier. Pushing himself back a little against the wall to support his back that was now protesting taking the full strain of Steve's collapsed weight, he pulled Steve gently back with him without taking him too far from the toilet just in case a new episode began without warning. He knew all too painfully from past, bitter experience that just when you thought you were over the worst, the body had a habit of proving you wrong. As they settled again against the wall and Steve moaned from the sudden movement, Mike chuckled and spoke once more humorously.

"Brings a whole new meaning to being floored by something doesn't it?"

Again Steve started giggling, wrapping his hand around his sore stomach as he did. Seeing that his quick wit had worked again cheered Mike up and he felt that he was finally making progress with the younger man. He also hoped that after such a violent purge that his young partner might feel somewhat better now after the fact and he had a sneaky suspicion that the giddy stage of Steve's drunken episode was now in full swing. Before he could think up another witty remark, Steve suddenly winced and yelped in pain. Sitting up straighter, Mike spoke worryingly.

"Steve? What's the matter? Did you hurt yourself when you fell? Oh God, did I hurt you moving you just then?"

Steve shook his head against Mike's chest to placate the older man and shook his bandaged finger as he spoke, still more breathlessly than he would have preferred to.

"No ... I just banged my sore finger when I fell ... It's ok ... It just smarts a bit ..."

"You let me be the judge of that! Here, let me see it ..."

Grabbing Steve's wrist gently, he eyed up the finger and saw a slowly growing red stain in a straight line along the crisp white bandage.

"Oooh! You have it bleeding again Steve. We had better get another look at that ... Are you sure you didn't need stitches in it?"

"No ... No, it's alright. Mrs. Peterson did a good job on it. It will be ok ... Besides she would have said if it did ... She was a nurse ... Did you know that?"

Mike scowled at Steve's stubbornness over the finger but then heard his partner's last words.

"Who was a nurse?"

"Mrs. Peterson. I didn't know that ... She ah ... told me earlier. I'd say she was a pretty good one in her day too. Even with her hands all arthritic she had a real steady hand, you know? And she has a kind bedside manner ... kind of like you ..." he added, giggling again.

Mike smiled.

"Well now what's that supposed to mean, Wiseguy? "

After a more prolonged fit of giggles that seemed to be harder to control this time and also seemed to hurt the young man's stomach, he replied giddily.

"I just meant you're a good person to have around in a crisis ... or when you have to throw up ... " he added giggling again.

Mike had to laugh at Steve's new found giddiness and found himself infected by the laughter of his partner. Chuckling lightly in reply he added in a feigned warning tone.

"Ok, I'll accept and appreciate that observation but don't you go spreading that around Bryant Street, you hear? I have a tough reputation to keep up you know? I can't have the other guys thinking I've gone soft in my old age, now can I?"

Steve's giggles died away as he struggled to restrain them in order to stop his recently overworked diaphragm from hurting and he replied in a semi-serious tone.

"Don't worry. You don't think I want this mentioned in Bryant Street either, do you? Haseejian would have a field day telling everyone I couldn't hold my drink. My lips are sealed!" Then as another wave of nausea washed over him and Mike felt it palpably from his grip on the young man, he added even more seriously. "At least I hope they are."

It was Mike's turn to laugh as he then tried to soothe and comfort.

"Ok, take it easy now. Let's just stay here for another few minutes and if you feel ok by then, we'll get you back inside to lie down on the couch, ok?"

"Yeah ... Ok ... " Steve replied weakly as the nausea slowly abated much to his delight.

He really didn't fancy another painful episode of vomiting. His head felt light and muzzy but he still had some control over his thoughts more or less so he hoped he at least wasn't so drunk that he would make a complete fool of himself even more than he was doing at the minute. The alcohol had lessened the emotional pain though and at least the embarrassment of his current predicament took his mind off his earlier mortification so he felt this torture wasn't totally in vain before his uncontrollable giddiness returned.

"Did you know she has a cat?"

"Who? ... Sydney? "

"NO! " Steve almost yelled in annoyance not wanting to even hear HER name mentioned anymore. "Mrs. Peterson ..."

"Oh! ... Sorry ... No ... I didn't know that or the fact that she was a nurse. But what has her cat got to do with anything?" Mike asked confused, turning his head slightly to get a better glimpse at the side of Steve's face, wondering and hoping against hope that he hadn't reached the talking rubbish stage of being drunk. He wasn't quite sure he could handle that stage if he had.

"Her cat likes me ... His name is Teddy ... He's a little overweight the poor thing ... " Chuckling again before continuing, Mike rolled his eyes as Steve continued regaling him about his elderly neighbor's cat. "She feeds it too many treats and I don't think it gets much exercise ... All it wants to do is get its tummy rubbed. Mrs. Peterson said ... it doesn't ah ... like many people ... "

Steve stopped mid-sentence and his laughter died away. Mike felt the earlier sadness threaten to take him over again and he quickly replied humorously to stop him sliding back into despair.

"Well I told you before, didn't I? It must be due to that magnetic personality of yours ... Not just the entire female population but even cats find you irresistible, huh?" Mike added grinning.

He waited and watched Steve's reaction and hoped it would have the desired effect. To Mike's relief a broad smile crossed Steve's face and he chuckled albeit weakly.

"Yeah ... yeah you might have a valid theory there but ... I think after today I might just give up on women and just get a cat! What do you think?"

Steve's face looked upwards to judge the older man's reaction and smiled again as he saw the older man return the smile.

"What I think is, that's the most sensible suggestion you've ever made Buddy boy. Look at it this way. At least with a cat, there would always be someone at home who would be glad to see you when you came home from work and they wouldn't mind if you had to work late and miss dinner with them, huh? "

The playful camaraderie was working wonders and because of the excess alcohol in his system, Steve didn't feel quite so pent up and tense. He smiled as Steve giggled at his remark.

"That's a very good point Michael ..."

Spurred on by Steve's reaction, Mike's genius wit gave him another brainwave and he added playfully.

"Also, look at it this way too. You'd never be in the ... doghouse."

A burst of laughter erupted from Steve and Mike joined in as Steve alternated between holding his stomach and wincing and laughing out loud. Seeing how the laughing was also causing him pain, Mike regretted being overly witty and tried to calm him down.

"Alright, alright funny boy. it wasn't THAT funny! You're going to hurt yourself if you're not careful ..."

"Yeah ... yeah it was ... " Steve continued, his giddiness now totally out of control.

"You're one funny man Michael, you know that? You always know what to say to cheer me up. Were you ever in the doghouse with Helen?"

"Are you kidding me? Sometimes I slept in it!" he added which caused Steve to laugh again. "No ... Seriously though, Helen was a very understanding woman. She didn't get mad with me very often and the few times she did I ... well I probably deserved it ... The funny thing is I'd ... well I'd gladly be in the doghouse again if it meant I could have her back in my life even for a little longer."

Mike finished speaking and then noticed that Steve's giggles had stopped and he had gone almost unnaturally quiet. Worried that his words had caused Steve to become melancholic again, he once more leaned his head forward and studied Steve's serious looking expression as his young partner stared down at his lap.

"You ok Buddy Boy? You ah ... feeling sick again?"

Steve shook his head and then spoke emotionally, a faint blush causing a red tinge to manifest in his pale cheeks.

"No ... I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you for a partner ... I ah ... I'm glad you came over Mike ... "

It was Mike's turn to blush and fluster.

"You're not going to get all mushy on me now, are you?"

That made Steve laugh again.

"No ... No, don't worry. I was just trying to say ... well thank you, I guess ..."

Mike smiled and squeezed the back of Steve's neck gently.

"You're welcome Buddy boy. I guess I should be thanking you too though ..."

"For what? Being your partner too?" Steve asked, his eyebrows raised hopefully.

Mike grinned broadly.

"NO ... for making it to the bathroom in time. I would have HATED to have had to clean that up!" he added cheekily as Steve's jaw dropped and he turned and swatted playfully at the older man as Mike laughed heartily.

 **A/N: Just one more chapter to go! Thanks for the kind words and support ... it means the world to me. Hope this update gave you all a smile after the angst of the previous ones ... ;-)**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Most Deadly Betrayal**

 **A/N: Apologies but I couldn't fit everything I wanted to include in this story into just one more chapter so an epilogue is needed next. Otherwise it would have ended up too long.**

Chapter 4

"Mike! ..." Steve protested as Mike's laughter gradually died down.

"Ok, ok ... You know I'm just joking with you. Of course I'm glad you're my partner too ... Now ... what do you say we get you back inside and off this floor, huh?"

Steve groaned and shivered before replying.

"Ugh ... I'm not sure that's a good idea yet Mike ... I ah ... still feel a little queasy."

Mike noticed the shiver and reaching out he touched Steve's hand which was as cold as ice.

"Steve? Are you feeling cold?"

"No ... No I don't think so, why?"

Because your hands are freezing, that's why ... Uh, oh, that's not a very good sign, Steve."

Steve whipped his head around to stare at the older man.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well you feel warm but you're shivering, your hands are like ice, you're as white as a sheet and you've just been violently sick ... They can all be signs of alcohol poisoning Steve ... "

Steve snorted and looked away again in disgust.

"Mike, I do NOT have alcohol poisoning! "

"I'm not so sure ... I think I'd better stay over tonight and keep my eye on you just in case. If you have that from drinking too fast, you could vomit in your sleep and choke, you know?" Mike added, with an increased level of concern in his voice.

"Mike, You DON'T have to stay over. I'm not going to vomit in my sleep, ok? You said yourself I just threw most of it back, I'm always pale and my hands are just cold because we're sitting on a cold floor ... And how the hell do you know the symptoms of alcohol poisoning anyway?"

"I read about it once and it's not something to fool around with Steve. It can be really dangerous. No ... you're stuck with me tonight whether you like it or not, Buddy boy. Maybe you're willing to take the chance, but I'M NOT! Now come on, move your duff so we can get you back inside. If you're still feeling sick, we'll get you a basin or a bucket or something, ok?"

Steve groaned again at Mike's persistence.

"Aw MIKE ..."

"Come on. No more arguments ... Now MOVE will you? "

Steve rolled his eyes and shifted himself forward enough so that Mike could get up and then reaching down Mike took his arm and pulled him up with him. Steve swayed precariously as he first stood as the bathroom spun and he found an arm around his waist practically holding him up. The nausea washed over him again briefly and there was a definite headache building somewhere deep in his skull ... He felt Mike start to move them towards the doorway and he found his voice again, albeit somewhat shakily.

"Mike ... WAIT. Don't move so fast. I ... I don't feel so good ..."

Mike could feel the young man trembling and knew by his eyes that were shut tight and his overall demeanor that moving too fast would have possible disastrous consequences. The fact that he was admitting to not feeling well also sent alarm bells ringing in the older man's head. Obviously the alcohol was partly to blame for Steve's unusual admission but either way it kind of unnerved Mike to hear it. Placing Steve's arm around his shoulders he spoke reassuringly.

"Alright, we'll go slow. Just try not to pass out on me, ok? I'm not sure if I'd be able to fully lift you off the floor if you do."

Steve gave a careful nod as Mike moved them slowly forward. The small journey from the bathroom back into the living room proved harder that it looked as Steve's legs seemed to be refusing to work properly. Steve was staggering precariously and so Mike was taking more strain than he felt comfortable with so by the time he managed to get Steve back to the couch, he was out of breath from the ordeal. Speaking breathlessly, he gave clear instructions.

"Alright hotshot ... We're here. The couch is right behind you ... Let's get you sitting down."

Mike lowered Steve down as carefully as he was able to under the strenuous circumstances and then instructed him to lie down as he arranged two cushions as a makeshift pillow at the end of the couch nearest the door. Steve hadn't reopened his eyes for fear of the alarming dizziness returning and so he gingerly lay back and swung his shaky legs up onto the couch as Mike's voice then pierced the air around him protesting strongly.

"NO! Not on your back, Steve. Roll onto your left side. It's safer ..."

Before he could roll over himself slowly, Mike's hands had gripped him and rolled him over a little too fast, causing his head to pound and his stomach to lurch violently. As Mike settled him on his side, he then felt the older man's hands arranging him in a certain way and then he felt another cushion getting stuffed unceremoniously behind his back. Annoyed by the fussing, Steve piped up in a frustrated tone.

"MIKE? WHAT are you DOING?"

"Well, I'm putting you in the recovery position, just in case you throw up. The cushion behind you will stop you rolling back over ..."

"Mike, you do NOT need to put me into a recovery position, ok? I am NOT unconscious!"

"OK, ok, don't get your holster in a flap. But humor me will you and just stay on your side, ok? Now ... where do you keep your blankets and do you have a basin of some kind anywhere?"

"There's a basin under the sink in the kitchen and there are blankets at the top of the wardrobe in the bedroom ... but Mike, I'm really not that cold ... "

Before he could protest any further, Mike had already left the room on a finding mission. Steve groaned at the night of horrendous fussing he was now going to have to endure and cursed his stupid idea to get drunk in the first place. Mike was going to be insufferable, he just knew it. He reached behind him and pulled out the cushion that Mike had stuffed there and flung it unceremoniously onto the armchair in disgust and rubbed at his eyes. Mike's footsteps were thundering about up and down the hall and Steve groaned as minutes later, he returned and started covering him up in a blanket. Swatting at the blanket that was being pulled up claustrophobically too close to his face, he moaned in vain.

"Mike, I don't NEED a blanket ... I'm NOT COLD! "

"Steve, you need to keep warm and where's the cushion I just placed behind your back?"

Steve moaned loudly again as Mike looked around and found it and stuffed it back behind Steve's back much to his disgust. A basin was then placed on the floor in front of him and a glass of water was then pushed in his direction.

"Here, you have to try and drink some water if you can. "

"If I drink some, do you promise to stop fussing ... Please?"

Mike chuckled.

"Ok hotshot. If you promise to stay on your side, keep that cushion behind you, that blanket over you AND drink some water, I'll stop fussing. How's that?"

Steve rolled his eyes and then shook his head incredulously.

"Has anyone ever told you you drive a very hard bargain, Michael?"

"Yes, frequently ... So? Is it a deal Buddy boy?"

Knowing he had little choice, he smiled agreeably.

"Ok ... I'll agree to your terms ... Deal ..." he uttered reluctantly, taking the glass of water and lifting himself up onto his left elbow to drink a few mouthfuls. As he did, Mike noticed his demeanor change again and waited to see why. Again after just a few minutes he handed the glass back to Mike and settled down against his makeshift pillow, his eyes drifting up to Mike's again unnervingly. Mike sensed a question coming on and so sat down in the nearest armchair and waited patiently. He didn't have to wait long.

"Mike? Tell me about her, will you? ... Please?"

"Who? "

"You know who Mike ... Sydney or Sally or whatever you said her real name is. You must have pulled her file ..."

Mike scowled at the question and flustered a little at the unexpected inquiry.

"Steve ... Maybe it's best you don't ask about it, ok? Not now. Not when it's still too raw, huh?"

"I want to know Mike ... Please? She ah ... wasn't a decorator, was she?"

Mike could see that Steve wasn't going to let the subject drop and frowned again.

"No ... No she wasn't. She graduated High school in art and music and ah ... majored in drama in New York and maybe wanted to be but things never panned out for her. That seemed to be the turning point for her ... She ah ... seemed to stray off the straight and narrow at that point and got into some stuff ..."

Steve shifted slightly where he lay and lifted his head slightly to look at Mike more closely.

"Drama ... Well that figures. Her acting skills were certainly second to none ... What kind of stuff did she get into? ... Drugs?"

Knowing the answer and considering her recent intimate relationship with Steve, he knew the answer would be hard for Steve to take, so he brushed the question off and flustered in the process.

"No ... not drugs . Look, now is really not the time for this Steve ... Say do you want me to put on the television and see if there's anything on worth watching? It might take your mind off things ..."

"No thank you. I don't want to watch television and stop trying to change the subject Mike. What STUFF? "

"Steve, I really don't think you should be asking about this now."

Mike's face flushed slightly and Steve read somewhere between the lines. He rubbed a nervous hand through his disheveled hair as things started to make some semblance of sense in his fuddled brain.

"Oh my God! ... It was ... prostitution wasn't it? That's why you won't tell me, isn't it?"

Mike looked down at the floor and felt bad for the young man. He nodded dolefully and then looked back up and watched carefully for a further bad reaction. Seeing Mike's reluctant confirmation, Steve sighed heavily and his head fell back down onto the pillow, covering his mouth as he did, then to Mike's further dismay, the self recriminations started again.

"Of course ... It's so obvious now ... Why are things always so clear after the fact? I wasn't just her mark ... I was her " trick " as well. God Mike, am I that easy? "

That remark further annoyed the older man and he quickly interrupted the young man's self disparaging rant.

"Now stop that. Don't say that. You were played Steve ... and by an expert. Look, that's WHY I didn't want to tell you. I knew you'd start blaming yourself again. It's DONE Steve. Stop reopening old wounds. It doesn't do any good and it's not going to change what happened. Have you got that?"

Steve had gone very quiet again. He was staring into space, his thoughts clearly someplace else and from the doleful expression he wore, Mike figured it wasn't any place nice. In actual fact, Steve was thinking about the times he had shared with Sydney. It hadn't been long in the general scheme of things but it had been special. She had been like no other girl he had ever dated. There had been something about her. Something that had kept her in his head even when they hadn't been together. She had made him feel special when she was with him and those facts burned even more now that he realized it had all been a play, an act, perhaps for her even a chore. He just couldn't believe that she had fooled him so easily. He broke from his thoughts and saw Mike staring at him with worry clearly etched on his face. He cleared his throat of the lump that had manifested while he had tried to further analyze their brief but intense relationship and he spoke as normally as the alcohol and the upset would allow.

"I'm ok Mike ... Or at least I will be ... What else was in her file?"

Mike was rapidly losing patience with the young man. Having felt that they had made progress in getting him past the hurt back in the bathroom, Mike felt that this further line of inquiry was only dragging him back to square one.

"No Steve. You've heard enough. Maybe you should try and sleep for a while now. The best cure for drinking too much is sleeping it off ..."

"Mike, I NEED to know. Please?"

"Damn it Steve, why do you have to be so STUBBORN? There wasn't much more in it anyway."

Steve lifted his head once more and looked crestfallen.

"Was there worse in it? Is that why you won't tell me?

" No Steve. That's not why. I just don't think that knowing all this is necessary. You're too close to this Steve. All it's going to do is hurt you even more."

"Then that's MY choice Mike. I ... can't explain why I need to know but I ... I just do ... Please Mike ..."

Mike sighed and shook his head before looking up to meet Steve's two green eyes burning into him and he threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"Ok, ok, I give up. She was in a relationship with ..." Mike paused purposefully, finding it hard to mention the name and not looking forward to Steve's reaction to it, " ... Howie Kune."

Steve seemed thoughtful as the name seemed to ring a bell from somewhere in his current addled memory.

"Howie Kune ... Howie ... Kune ..."

Mike saw the illumination of remembrance light up in Steve's eyes and saw his jaw drop open.

"Wasn't he a well known hit man back East?" he stammered in disbelief, almost hoping it was just a regular Howie Kune and not the notorious hit man he thought it was, even though that fact made the jigsaw pieces start to come together to form a clearer picture in his head.

"That's right. Looks like they were together a long time. After he was killed four years ago, she ... well it looks like she took over the business. Her first kill was in revenge for the death of her ... " again Mike paused awkwardly under the circumstances. "... her lover."

Those two words felt like they burned a bigger hole right through Steve's heart and he gasped in shock at the new revelations.

"Sounds like she learned from the best then, huh? Mike? ... How many? "

Mike looked at him curiously and then seemed to suddenly understand the question.

"Oh ... ah ... four that New York are aware of and then Davies and Albanese makes six. "

He swallowed hard as he saw Steve's eyes close briefly on hearing that answer and then in a very pained and subdued voice he added.

"I guess I was nearly number seven, huh?"

Mike's throat constricted this time as that subject was resurrected again and Mike decided to merely nod and hope that the young man had heard enough for now. He watched as Steve's head dropped back a second time onto the cushions and he went even quieter. Mike could tell that even in his current condition, something was still chewing heavily on the young man. He looked tired and drowsy and Mike figured he was now entering the "sleepy" stage of being drunk. He hoped that perhaps Steve would drop off to sleep but it looked like Steve was fighting the urge so leaning forward in the armchair, Mike placed a gentle hand on the young man's arm and spoke firmly.

"Come on spit it out ..."

Steve looked curiously up at the older man, so Mike spoke again.

"Whatever's chewing on you ... Spit it out."

Steve's facial expression changed as he realized that Mike had read him well and from his continuing silence Mike could tell that it was something he was reluctant to talk about. Mike waited several tortuous seconds before Steve finally asked the question that was bothering him.

"The fact that she and I ... were ah ... together. Will that cause problems for the Prosecution's case, do you think?"

Mike was almost relieved that that was all he was worried about. He smiled and shook his head.

"No, I wouldn't think so. The evidence we have on her is pretty damning. We arrested her with the gun and that's going to tie her directly to both murders with the ballistic reports. I suppose her lawyer could try to make an issue about you if he chose to but any lawyer worth their pay in my opinion will urge her to go for a plea bargain in this case. Including you would only complicate matters. We might have to go and see Gerry O'Brien tomorrow and get his take on it but I don't think you've anything to worry about there Buddy boy."

He had hoped that Steve would be heartened by his opinion but to his further dismay, Steve's expression remained worried. He watched as Steve dry swallowed and asked a second question.

"What about Olsen? Do you think he'll hand me a suspension?"

Mike squeezed Steve's arm and looked taken aback.

"What for? For talking about your day? Steve, you said it yourself, you didn't tell her any important details. Do you really think Olsen would hang you out to dry for something like that?"

Steve shrugged, the worry still palpable even in his inebriated state.

"More to the point Steve, do you really think I'd let him? How long have you been on the force Buddy boy. Just over four years right? Maybe four and a half?"

"Yeah, about that. But Mike, I don't want you going to bat for me on this. I don't want you getting into trouble because of me ... I'm the one that did wrong."

"Now wait just a minute ... We're partners Steve and partners go to bat for each other! " Mike interrupted." That's what they do and THAT'S NOT negotiable Steve" he added forcibly as he saw Steve about to protest. "Now the reason I asked you how long you've been on the force is that you should know by now that Olsen sticks by his men. Now he might have his flaws like the rest of us but he's behind us when it matters and this is one of those times. He might bring you into his office for a " talk" but that's about the worst that you can expect and it will be purely to appease the "higher ups" should any questions be asked BUT ... and I mean this honestly and sincerely Steve. I think you're worrying about nothing. AND I think you're being too hard on yourself and that's a very bad habit of yours may I add."

Steve finally allowed himself a brief smile as he heard Mike's comforting words. Mike had been on the force a lot longer than him and he trusted his opinion. If Mike wasn't worried about the whole thing then he probably shouldn't worry either and it was especially comforting to know Mike was behind him no matter what happened, not that he had doubted that fact for a second. He felt a sudden weariness wash over him. It had been a long day and the alcohol was now causing him to feel sleepy. He really wanted to sleep but his head felt heavy and muzzy and so many different things seemed to be bothering him. Things that wouldn't allow him to sleep in peace. The alcohol in his system was making him a little more open that usual and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. But feeling braver as a result, he decided to bring up one other thing that was bothering him. Something that he knew under different circumstances, he wouldn't have the courage to ask. So taking a deep steadying breath he asked nervously.

"Mike can I ... ask you one more thing?"

Mike smiled and nodded agreeably.

"Of course you can. Shoot!"

He watched his young partner squirm uncomfortably before finally asking awkwardly.

"Well ... you do know ah ... what they say about me don't you?"

Mike's brow furrowed as he studied Steve closely.

"What are you talking about now? What who says about you? "

"Some of the guys at Bryant Street ..." he added uncomfortably "They ah ... say I use women for ... well you know and ah ... then dump them ... "

Mike scowled as Steve's words ended and Steve could almost see the older man's hackles rise.

"WHO says that? "

"Just people."

"In Homicide?"

"No ... No, I ah ... just overheard some of them in the Cafeteria ... You don't think I do that, do you Mike?"

Mike sat up straighter and spoke firmly in an angry tone.

"I most certainly do NOT ... And they know better than to say that to me anyway. Why I'd soon put them straight! Why are you asking me that anyway?"

Steve looked away embarrassed, his gaze staring at the floor as his anguished reply filtered through his lips.

"Maybe they're not so wrong Mike ..."

"HEY! Now wait just a minute ... Why would you say that?"

Still staring at the floor and not catching Mike's eye, Steve's voice slurred a little. Mike tried to figure out if it was from the overpowering effect of the alcohol in his system or his obvious discomfort at the topic of conversation.

"Well ... the girls I date ... They ah ... usually ... come on to me and I ah ... I don't exactly refuse Mike ..."

He finally managed to blurt out the sentence, his cheeks reddening further as he did. He couldn't believe he was actually trying to discuss this with the older man. He risked a quick glance upwards at Mike's face and could see an equal amount of discomfort on it and suddenly regretted bringing it up at all, but he often wondered if Mike knew what people said about him and whether he agreed with the vicious rumors or not. Mike never mentioned it and without the alcohol Steve knew he would never have had the courage to ask him.

"So ah ... Does that make you a bad person, Buddy boy, partaking of what's offered ... so to speak, huh?"

Steve shrugged and spoke shamefully.

"Maybe ..."

He saw Mike shift uncomfortably where he sat and then heard him take a few deep breaths. Then he watched as Mike leaned forward, closer to him and he looked away again, wondering if he was going to regret asking the question that had bothered him for quite a while.

"Look Steve, I'm ... well I'm probably not exactly the right person to ask. I mean in my day when we went out with a girl, we held hands, kissed on the cheek. Eventually on the lips and well quite frankly ... you had to be married or near enough to it to ... " Mike stopped mid-sentence awkwardly and didn't finish the line. Steve couldn't help a faint grin as he knew Mike was finding it difficult to speak about this sort of thing and so he waited patiently for him to continue. "Well nowadays, it's all different and you young people seem to bed hop as if it was a hobby ... and being honest I ... well I'm not exactly convinced that's a good thing but times change and who am I to judge anyone for it ... "

Steve watched as Mike struggled to continue and his grin faded. Mike was right. It wasn't always a good thing. This time had opened his eyes to that fact. Seeing Steve's downhearted reaction to what he had said, Mike quickly continued.

"Look Steve, I know you've had your fair share of girlfriends since we became partners and I have to admit there were times I got mixed up with the names and sometimes even the hair colour! But ... I've only ever known you to be totally respectful to them all and well if my memory serves me correctly AND it normally DOES, most of those young ladies broke YOUR heart in the end and not the other way around. I ah ... I may be getting on a little in years and I may like to be in bed by ten on occasion when work allows AND like to sit up reading nowadays instead but that doesn't mean I don't remember being your age at one time, you know?"

That statement drew Steve's attention back up to stare at him and another very faint smile returned as he listened to Mike attentively.

"All that testosterone flowing through those veins of yours and all those young ladies tempting you with what they have to offer. I know it's hard to resist temptation like that. I had a few admirers in my day too you know? "

Steve's jaw dropped and he stared at the older man incredulously. Mike saw his partner's stare and flustered accordingly.

"What's the matter? Don't you think I could have had admirers? I might not have had your boyish good looks and wavy hair but I had a certain rugged charm in my day that women found attractive."

Steve quickly explained his expression as he flustered right along with the older man.

"No ... No I wasn't thinking that. It's just I ah ... well I guess I've only ever thought of you with ... with Helen, that's all."

Mike's expression softened and he patted Steve's shoulder and smiled.

"I did have a life BEFORE Helen too, you know? Maybe not one as adventurous as yours but one none the less."

Steve chuckled at that and nodded agreeably, strangely enjoying this insight into Mike's earlier relationships.

"I had my heart broken a couple of times too, Buddy boy in my youth and one was well ... every bit as calculating as Sydney. Not as deadly of course but calculating all the same. Mary Ellen Harper ... "he added nostalgically.

Steve straightened up a little and lifted his head with interest.

"What happened?"

Mike belly laughed and shook his finger at the younger man.

"Oh no! You're not hearing about that today hotshot ... Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime but NOT today ..."

"Aw come on Mike ... That was just getting interesting ... " he slurred in frustration.

Mike laughed again.

"Yes, I'll bet it was. But NO! We're discussing YOU now remember?"

Steve shook his head at first at Mike's annoying secrecy but then nodded in acceptance.

"Alright, you want my advice for what it's worth Buddy boy?"

Steve nodded awkwardly.

"Ok, well maybe I'm wronging you and if I am then I'm sorry but it always struck me that maybe ... just maybe mind you that ... your relationships are always based maybe a little too much on well ... how do I put this? The ah ... physical side of things and for a relationship to work it well it needs ... more, Steve."

Steve lifted himself up again onto his elbow and stared incredulously at the older man.

"What? More sex?"

Mike flustered and stammered even more awkwardly.

"NO! That's NOT what I meant ... I was SAYING that for a relationship to work it would help if on occasion your date didn't mind if ... well if you had ... a HEADACHE ..."

Mike purposefully emphasized the last word hoping Steve would understand what he was trying to say but he frowned as he saw the young man's brow furrow even more as he spoke, sounding confused.

"What? You mean my migraines?"

Mike rolled his eyes and began to regret having entered this awkward discussion in the first place. Deciding to try one last time to convey his meaning he stammered one last time.

"No Steve, I DON'T mean your migraines. I'm trying to say that your date should be ok with it if ... maybe sometimes after a hard day's work or ... if you're too tired that occasionally maybe you mightn't feel ... you know ... up to it ... "

Steve spoke sounding at first confused. "... up to it? " Then Mike saw realization suddenly dawn as a faint smile curled around the young man's lips. "OH! You mean UP to it ... Ok, I get it now ..."

Steve smiled again as he heard Mike mutter "Thank God " under his breath and wipe his brow in relief. He chuckled as he heard Mike continue speaking.

"Again, I may be wronging those nice lady friends of yours but ... well it always struck me that they wouldn't really be understanding if that well ... happened."

Mike watched Steve's eyes grow thoughtful and smiled at the so out of character drunken expression on his face. He waited, hoping that Steve wouldn't be offended by his perhaps overly forthright and old fashioned opinion but he sighed with relief as Steve's face brightened and he spoke in reply.

"No ... No you're not wronging them ... You read them right ..."

Mike leaned forward even more and placed a hand on Steve's arm and spoke seriously.

"Steve, for a relationship to work and really last well ... Of course it's ok for the ah ... well physical side of things to be good but there has to be more to it Steve. There has to be mutual respect and understanding and well they ... should be your best friend too ... I just think that maybe you should look for a girl that well ... that ticks all those boxes instead of maybe just the first one. The whole package you could say."

Steve remained thoughtful and then slowly nodded his head as if in understanding.

"Yeah, I see what you mean ... I guess that makes sense. Was ... Helen the whole package?"

Mike's face lit up in a broad smile and he spoke with a tinge of pride and fond memory in his voice.

"Oh yeah! She was more than the whole package. She was the whole Post Office! But mark my words Buddy boy, when you finally meet the right person, you'll forget all those girls who ever broke your heart and well ... they won't matter anymore."

"Even Mary Ellen Harper?" Steve asked with a wry smile.

Mike laughed.

"Absolutely ... You just need to maybe be a bit well ... "

Seeing Mike struggling to find the right words, Steve helped him out.

" ... more choosy, huh?"

Mike nodded proudly. "Yes Buddy boy, more choosy ..."

Steve lay back down and then started giggling unexpectedly. Mike stared at him, having thought the giddy stage had ended earlier and asked seriously.

"What's so funny?"

Steve sobered briefly and tried to explain his sudden amusement

"Sorry ... It's just that I can't believe I just had that conversation with you ..."

"What? You think just because I'm older that you can't discuss things like that with me. I was married you know and I have a daughter!"

Steve chuckled again and shook his head, a visible blush manifesting itself in his cheeks.

"No, no it's not that ... it's just that I ah ... never really discussed it with an older person before ..."

"Well, I guess you never got the chance to talk to your parents about it but you were a teenager when you were with your Grandfather. Surely he spoke with you about the birds and the bees, huh Buddy boy?"

Steve belly laughed and answered in a humorous tone.

"Oh yeah, he did his best alright but let's just say it was a very brief discussion and very confusing. I ah ... think I learned more from my friends at school about it than I did from him."

"Knowing you, I'd say you learned more from the " girls " at school about it!" Mike added with a faint chuckle of his own.

Steve laughed and added in a tired but amused voice.

"Ah, ah! I'm pleading the fifth amendment on that one Mike ..."

The tiredness and alcohol were starting to take their toll and Mike's words had alleviated a lot of the worries that had been plaguing him. With his mind finally a little easier, Steve seemed to settle more into the cushions beneath his head and as he rubbed at his eyes drowsily and stifled a yawn, he heard Mike chuckle.

"Uh oh ... Someones getting tired ... I think it's time you slept Buddy boy. "

As Steve nodded and closed his eyes, almost against his own will, the phone out in the hall suddenly rang loudly and his eyes sprang open again uneasily. He lifted himself up onto his elbow again and stared at Mike with visible concern written all over his face. In a shaky voice and squinting at his watch in the dimly lit room, he asked in an alarmed fashion.

"Who the hell could that be at this time of the evening? It's almost eleven thirty. You're the only one who normally rings me at this hour. "

Mike waved a steadying hand in his direction in an attempt to calm the young man down.

"Hey? Take it easy, ok? I'll see who it is. I'm sure it's nothing to be alarmed about."

As Mike headed out to the hall to answer the phone, Steve remained upright, listening and feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach that this time had nothing to do with the amount of drink he had recently consumed.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Most Deadly Betrayal**

Chapter 5 : The Epilogue

Mike hurried out to the phone in the hall and quickly picked up the receiver, placing it to his ear and turning his back slightly from the living room door, in case he needed to avoid Steve hearing anything that might be said, especially as he could almost feel Steve listening intently from his now slightly raised position on the couch. Late night calls always bothered him and although he had tried to hide that fact from the younger man, not wanting to exacerbate the worry and tension he had felt coming from him, he couldn't help feeling somewhat ill at ease himself as he spoke into the receiver clearly.

"Hello? "

There was a very brief silence on the other end of the line, as if the caller had expected Steve to answer which was quickly followed by a tentative question.

"Mike? ... Is that you?"

Mike immediately recognized the voice of one of his senior detectives and now even more concerned, he picked up the phone and walked further down the hall as far as the cable would allow, holding the phone in one hand and the receiver in the other and frowned as he heard Steve's anxious voice drift from the living room.

"Mike? ... Who is it?"

He spoke into the receiver quietly.

"Hold on a second Bill ..." Then turning the mouthpiece so it muffled against his shoulder he called out amiably.

"Relax Steve, it's just Tanner ..."

That answer however did not appease the younger man as he had hoped it would. Instead an even more fretful inquiry followed immediately.

"BILL? ... What does he want Mike?"

Smiling to himself, Mike called out gently, with a slight chuckle purposefully included to hopefully calm his agitated partner down even a notch.

"Steve, if you don't let me talk to the man, I'm not going to be able to find out, now am I? Hold your horses, will you?"

A muffled and embarrassed sounding apology filtered from the living room from Steve's lips but Mike could still expertly hear the worry behind the simple words. He turned and now at full stretch of the phone cable, he stood in the kitchen doorway and turning to face away from the hall, he lifted the receiver and spoke quietly.

"Sorry about that Bill, go ahead ..."

"I'm glad I found you Mike. I rang your house but when you weren't there, I ah ... well I ..."

Mike smiled and finished Bill's sentence for him.

"You rightly assumed I'd be checking up on Steve, huh?"

An audible chuckle could be heard from the other end of the receiver.

"Yeah ... You got me ... How is Steve, Mike?"

"He's nursing a wounded pride among other things but he'll be ok. Is there trouble?" he added unable to wait a second longer to know the reason for the late night call.

"No ... " Bill rushed to appease his Lieutenant. "Quite the opposite actually. I thought you'd want to know Banning's given us a full, signed confession and she's pleaded Mike, guilty on both counts, Davies and Albanese."

"Already?" Mike couldn't keep the surprise from his voice." Did her lawyer agree to that?"

"She didn't wait for him Mike. As soon as we brought her back and charged her she waived her rights to see him and announced that she wanted to make a statement."

Mike sighed heavily and Bill waited patiently for some kind of response from the older man which came fairly quickly.

"Well, I must admit, I ah ... didn't expect her to do that! Has she admitted the New York ones too?"

"No ... She's staying very quiet about those."

Lowering his voice even more purposefully, he asked tentatively.

"Bill? Has she mentioned Steve?"

"No, Mike not in relation to the shootings. But ... she did ask if she could speak to Inspector Keller in private ... She didn't say what she wanted to talk about though. I ah ... told her he wasn't about ..."

Tanner could hear Mike's breathing become faster at that news and wasn't surprised at the answer that came back through the phone line.

"You tell her, she'll see him over my dead body! "

"Ok Mike, I'll tell her. They're taking her down to holding now."

"Has Olsen said anything about Steve, Bill?"

"No ... Olsen hasn't been around yet. He's been at some conference all day. I doubt he'll be here until the morning at this stage."

"Ok, that's good. I'll fill him in tomorrow."'

"Will you be in tomorrow Mike?"

"Yes ... I'll be in but I'm not sure when. Steve's a bit rough tonight. I'm going to keep an eye on him but I'll call you in the morning. There's not much more to be done until then anyway. Try to get home soon and get some sleep Bill. It's been a long day for everyone. I appreciate the call ..."

"You're welcome Mike. I ah ... must say I'm glad it was you that answered. I ... wasn't sure what I was going to tell Steve ... or how he'd take it ..."

"I know. Just leave that to me now. See you tomorrow."

Having heard Tanner's goodbye, Mike hung up the phone and returned it to the hall table and hurried into Steve, who he knew was probably up to ninety by now. As he entered the living room door, sure enough he saw Steve still leaning up on his elbow, his free hand across his mouth in his usual nervous reaction to things. As soon as he heard Mike's footsteps he looked up anxiously.

"WELL? Am I in trouble? Does Olsen want to see me? Has something happened? Has she brought me up during her questioning?"

The nervous questions were shot at the older man in quick succession and Mike held out a hand in response and pleaded quietly.

"Steve, will you relax. I can only answer one question at a time you know? You're going to get an ulcer out of this if you keep it up."

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry but will you PLEASE put me out of my misery. Was it bad news?"

"No, the complete opposite. She's pleaded guilty already on both counts, Buddy boy. Looks like it's going to be easier than we thought. She seems quite ready to take the wrap. According to Tanner she didn't even wait to see her lawyer. She waived her rights and gave a full blow by blow statement and confession, signed and everything."

Steve's jaw dropped and he looked surprised. Remaining open mouthed, Mike slapped his shoulder playfully.

"Stay like that and you're going to catch flies Buddy boy!" he teased in an attempt to drag the young man past the shock of what he had just heard.

Steve didn't bat an eyelid at Mike's attempted humor but instead asked another question.

"Did she mention me ... or rather " us" Mike?"

Mike shook his head.

"No Steve, not even a mention."

"I know my brain's not working at full capacity Mike at the minute but ... that doesn't make sense! Why would she go to such trouble and lengths to kill them and then just ... cave like that? Besides if ... if she goes to prison, Albanese's boys will target her for sure out of revenge. Why wouldn't she fight that? And if she used me the way she did, why didn't she just hang me out? I mean ... I was the perfect ruse ... So why didn't she?"

Steve dropped back down onto the cushions and rubbed his hand though his hair and across his face in a frustrated and tired fashion. Mike still standing, looked down in concern.

"I don't know Steve ... I really don't but for now, let's just be grateful for the outcome, ok? Maybe she's not quite as cold and calculating as we put her down as or maybe somewhere in that cold heart, she found a spark of the girl she used to be and decided to do the decent thing for a change. Or maybe ... just maybe, it's possible that you actually did manage to get under her skin and into her affections, Buddy boy. After all you do have that annoying habit, you know?" he teased again, ruffling Steve's hair as he spoke and finally rising a very small smile from his young partner.

"I don't know about that Mike ... I just don't know ..."

He rubbed at his tired eyes and sighed as if the weight of the world were pressing down on him. He pinched the top of his nose and Mike saw the sudden movement and frowned.

"You getting a headache?"

"No, no it's just threatening to come at the minute."

"Well just try and put it out of your mind for now. I just hope you're not going to feel as bad as I think you will when you wake up in the morning! I better have the aspirin and strong coffee at the ready, what do you think? "

Steve groaned at the prospect of his morning hangover as the threatened headache remained throbbing threateningly behind his eyes, promising to develop into a real doozy at a later stage. He looked up at Mike and smiled.

"Yeah ... yeah I think that might be a good move. But look Mike, you really don't have to stay you know? You've done more than enough already. I don't feel as sick now. I think I'll be ok. "

"You do huh? Well I'm not going to take the chance. Besides it's only for one night and it's getting late already. I just hope you've learned a few valuable lessons from all this, Buddy boy and never resort to this type of thing again."

"Don't worry ... I HAVE ... And if I forget something tells me you'll remind me."

"You better believe it!"

Steve laughed at Mike's threat and then found himself yawning again.

"I'm just really tired Mike ..."

"Ok, try to sleep again,will you? Maybe I should have put the phone in the refrigerator, huh? What do you think?" Mike asked chuckling.

To Mike's dismay, Steve never laughed back but instead spoke in a serious tone.

"No Mike. Better leave it just in case, huh?"

"Ok, look why don't you go into your bed, huh? You'd be more comfortable there. I can help you in."

"No, no I ... I'd prefer to stay here Mike. I'm ok here, really. Why don't you take my bed if you're still insisting on staying over. It's comfortable."

Mike stood and studied Steve carefully. Wondering why he didn't want to go into his own bed instead of the couch he had an unnerving thought. Deciding he needed to know if perhaps it was the reason but secretly hoping it wasn't, he probed tentatively.

"Steve, can I ask you something personal?"

Steve blushed and felt that after their earlier conversation he could hardly refuse.

"Sure ... I guess ..."

"I hope you don't me asking you this but ... was Sydney ever well ... in your apartment?"

Steve dry swallowed and knew what Mike was really asking between the lines. Feeling a little deflated, he answered flatly.

"No, Mike. We were always in hers. She never slept in my bed Mike, if that's what you're worried about."

It was Mike's turn to blush slightly.

"Sorry Buddy boy. I wasn't being nosy. I just ... well I just thought that if she had, that maybe that's why you didn't want to sleep in there at the minute ... That's all ... Sorry."

"That's ok Mike ... I understand why you asked. Truthfully, I guess I'm kind of glad she wasn't in here either now but ... the truth is ... well ... I usually sleep here on the couch whenever I'm sick ... or if there's something bothering or worrying me."

Mike raised an eyebrow and sat back on the arm of the armchair as he heard Steve's strange admission. He could see Steve almost regretting his words so he piped up quickly.

"Why is that?"

At Mike's question, Steve couldn't believe he was after admitting that embarrassing fact and cursed the alcohol again for over loosening his tongue. Now he was going to have to explain himself and he wasn't even sure how to. Flustering he tried to explain but failed miserably.

"I don't really know why ... I mean it's not really a conscious decision ..." Then seeing Mike's brow furrow even more he continued awkwardly. "I mean I just sort of end up in one place or the other and I don't question it. I just sort of go where my feet take me ... It's complicated ... oh God and now it sounds stupid as well. Sorry Mike ... I think I'm starting to talk rubbish now ... Maybe I better just go to sleep, huh?"

But Mike straightened up, his face unreadable and spoke with a surprising admiration in his tone.

"No, actually it's not stupid at all. In fact it's very clever ..."

It was Steve's turn to look confused.

"Clever?"

"Yes ... I know you said you do it subconsciously but you must see what you're ACTUALLY doing Steve?"

Steve laughed nervously.

"No, not really. Like I said I don't really think about it. What AM I doing?"

"Your bedroom is your sanctuary. Your one peaceful place. So when you're worried or sick you don't bring it in there. You keep the negativity out. So it only ever stays peaceful. That's quite a clever thing to do Buddy boy. I must say I'm impressed."

Steve reddened even more and shook his head incredulously.

"Whoa Mike, that's very deep ... I ah ... I'm flattered that you're so impressed but I ah ... well truthfully I don't really think that's why I do it ... I mean I don't know why I do it but ..."

"Steve, I'm going to ask you something else but it's just a hunch, ok?" Mike interrupted carefully. " Now this might seem like an "off the wall" kind of question but humor me, ok?"

Steve nodded curiously.

"Ok ..."

"Where did you sleep when you lived at your Grandfather's house?"

"My GRANDFATHER'S house? Why would you ask THAT, Mike? I mean ... in my bedroom of course ... I ..." Mike watched then closely as the blush faded from Steve's face rapidly as he stopped mid sentence and the alarming pallor returned a little too fast for the older man's liking, confirming that his suspicions and hunch had been correct. He heard Steve suck in a gasping breath as the following words filtered out erratically. " ... except ... when I was sick or ... had a nightmare ... or was upset. Then I ... slept on an old couch that was in my Grandfather's bedroom! My GOD! I haven't thought about that for a very long time ... I ah ... never connected it before! "

He turned and stared at Mike, who was now grinning broadly, in total disbelief and shock at the forgotten revelation.

"How did the hell did you figure THAT out?"

Mike smiled warmly and clasping Steve's arm with equal warmth in its touch, he laughed heartily.

"Well, normally what we do subconsciously has a reason somewhere in our past. I just had a hunch ..."

Steve's mouth once more fell open and he shook his head incredulously.

"You know Mike, you never cease to amaze the HELL out of me! You'd sure give Lenny a run for his money any day, you know that?"

Mike laughed again and then quickly sobered.

"Well, don't tell Lenny that. You'll just make him nervous. And anyway ... I have been around the block a tad longer than you, you know? Not all wisdom comes from those college books of yours, you know? Some of it only comes from age and experience. Remember that Buddy boy and you'll make it to the top, mark my words."

Steve giggled but still continued to shake his head.

"I can't believe I just told you about my strange sleeping habits. You didn't put truth serum in that wine, did you?"

Mike belly laughed.

"No, I didn't have to. Alcohol, Buddy boy can be a truth serum all by itself. But don't worry about it. We all have our own strange sleeping habits."

Catching the last sentence, Steve shifted where he lay.

"Oh, WE do, do we?"

Mike's laughter stopped and he flustered some more.

"Well, that was just a figure of speech ..."

Wagging an accusing finger at the older man, Steve persisted.

"No, it wasn't. You specifically said WE ... Come on Mike, spill. What are YOUR strange sleeping habits? That's only fair you know? I told you mine."

Mike blushed and fidgeted where he sat.

"Ok, ok I guess you're right. Well, it's not strange, I guess in itself but ... you see I well ... I never got rid of our double bed after ... well after Helen passed away and I used to sleep on the left side and she always slept on the right ..."

"You had your specific sides?" Steve added smiling.

"You better believe it Buddy boy. Wait until you get married someday. Women can get very territorial about things like that you know? Anyway ah ... since she passed, despite having this large double bed, I ah ... still sleep on the left hand side. Can you credit that? But ah ... that's not the most embarrassing part."

Steve's smile faded fast as he heard the definite melancholic tone entering Mike's voice and he began to regret pushing the older man for more details. Sensing something ominous in Mike's words, It was Steve's turn to fluster. "You don't have to tell me anymore, Mike. That's ok."

But Mike hadn't seem to even hear his mumbled words and continued speaking regardless.

"You see, on the nights when I really miss her, especially on special occasions or if a case is maybe getting me down more than usual, I ... oh well you're going to think this is really stupid Buddy boy but ... " Mike threw an embarrassed glance up at his young partner and seemed to be deciding whether he should finish the story or not. Then seeming to decide that telling it quickly would be best, he blurted out the last lines in quick succession. "... on those nights I sleep on HER side. It helps. There, now you know. Stupid, huh?"

Mike blushed redder and then looked up at Steve and became alarmed. Steve was staring unnervingly at the older man and there were tears glistening in his eyes clearly. He heard the muted, saddened reply that followed.

"That's not stupid Mike ..."

Mike leaned forward and grabbed Steve's shoulder.

"Hey, hey now. Don't get upset. I'm sorry. I guess I forgot that under the influence of too much alcohol, things can seem a little more depressing than normal. You ok? What's the matter?"

Steve rubbed at his eyelids awkwardly and forced another broken reply.

"You just ... reminded me of something, that's all. Something I haven't thought about for a very long time. That's all. It's ok ..."

Mike squeezed Steve's shoulder and spoke with a guilty tone.

"Well it's not ok if it upset you that much ... What ... did it remind you of?"

Steve fidgeted uncomfortably and then spoke in a shaky voice.

"When I was a kid, I had this teddy bear. It was my favorite, you know? It used to go everywhere with me. At night my Mother ... she ah ... used to read to me from this big children's story book. She used to put her arm around me and her other arm around the bear like ... like she was reading to both of us, you know?"

Mike smiled and nodded his understanding, fondly remembering as he did, his own times reading bedtime stories to Jeannie as a young child.

"After she died I ... I could still get her scent off the bear from where she used to hold it so I ... I stopped carrying it everywhere because I was afraid if I did, I would wear her scent off it. So I ... put it in this old shoe box and I only took it out ... whenever I missed her ..."

Steve's last words were broken as a solitary tear fell down Steve's cheek and Mike felt his own eyes mist up as he heard Steve's sorrowful tale. Feeling both sympathetic and a little guilty for making him remember such a sad thing, Mike reached into his trouser pocket and handed Steve his handkerchief wordlessly. He watched Steve nod gratefully and wipe frantically at his eyes before clearing his throat purposefully and asking even more tentatively.

"What ever happened to the bear? Do you ah ... still have it?"

Steve half smiled , trying to regain some dignity after the embarrassing episode and inwardly still cursing the uncharacteristic effects the alcohol was having on him. Trying to keep his voice as normal as he could he answered Mike bravely.

"Yeah ... The shoe box is at the top of my wardrobe but ... her scent wore off it a long time ago ... "he added in a somewhat regretful tone.

Mike sat back further on the arm of the chair, feeling slightly lost for words and he smiled awkwardly up and met his partner's equally awkward gaze.

"Let's get off this morbid business, huh? I'm not sure how we even got onto this whole subject in the first place ... Here I am supposed to be trying to cheer you up and look where it got us, huh?

"Yeah, good idea." Steve responded with another nervous chuckle before the tiredness returned with a vengeance and another yawn threatened to appear. He stifled it again behind his hand and saw Mike standing up and pushing him gently back down against the pillows.

"Now try to get some sleep, will you? No more chit chat. I'm going to get myself some of that coffee I made earlier. I'd offer you some but I think you're better sticking with the water for now. Actually maybe try to drink some more of that before you nod off. The more hydrated you are the less hung over you're hopefully going to be tomorrow. "

Steve nodded and yawned again, this time allowing it to manifest fully.

"Ok, Mike."

He heard Mike leave the room behind him and sighed heavily. The extra upset just remembered had left him feeling even more drained than before and a succession of yawns assaulted him then one after the other. He picked up the glass and took a few more mouthfuls before he settled his head back down onto the pillow and closed his eyes. They had no sooner closed when a faint voice calling his name, drew his attention. He opened his eyes, lifted his head and listened, this time hearing nothing. Dropping back onto the cushions, the faint voice came a second time. This time feeling slightly unnerved he called out anxiously.

"Mike?"

Hurried footsteps echoed back down the hall as Mike's head appeared in through the doorway.

"Steve, what's the matter? You alright?"

"I'm not sure. I think someone's calling me, Mike ... Listen."

Mike grew alarmed by Steve's admission and studied Steve closely. He hadn't heard anybody calling from back in the kitchen and yet he listened as requested. There was nothing but silence and Steve shifted uncomfortably, seeing Mike's concerned expression.

"I WASN'T hearing things Mike. There was a voice ..."

Realizing that sounded even more damning, Steve stopped mid-sentence as Mike spoke sympathetically.

"I know you THOUGHT you heard something Buddy boy but you have had quite a bit to drink and sometimes your mind can play tricks on you and you can imagine things that ..."

Before he had finished the sentence, a faint, almost whispered voice calling out "Steve?" reached both their ears seemingly coming from outside. Steve feeling vindicated, smiled and spoke firmly.

"Well? Did I IMAGINE that?"

Mike didn't answer as he rushed to the window and pulling the curtains aside he glanced out onto the street and spoke back to Steve.

"It's your neighbor Mrs. Peterson. She's down outside her door calling up here."

Steve sat up a little too fast and groaned as his head spun.

"Oh my God. I had better check if she's alright ..."

Before he could move any further and seeing the obvious dizziness, Mike had raced back and eased him back down gently.

"Ah ah ... You stay put. You're in no fit state to go anywhere, especially down those steps! I'll go see if she's alright. STAY there." he ordered firmly as he hurried out again and Steve heard the front door opening and Mike's feet on the steps outside as he waited anxiously.

Mike hurried down the many steps from Steve's apartment and called out gently as he saw Mrs. Peterson startle a little at the unrecognizable form approaching her in the dimly lit Street.

"Mrs. Peterson? It's Mike Stone. Is everything alright? Are you ok?"

As she recognized the voice, she visibly relaxed and headed towards him, grabbing both his arms as she did.

"Oh my. Thank goodness! I didn't realize that you were with Steve. I've been ever so worried about him you know? I just wanted to see if he was alright? He's been drinking. Did you know that?"

Mike smiled at the blatant and sincere concern the elderly lady showed for Steve's well being and he nodded graciously.

"Yes, I know that . But he's stopped now so you can stop worrying. He's going to be just fine."

Mrs. Peterson didn't seem reassured and she continued in a worried tone.

"I think he's had his heart broken Mike. By that recent new young neighbor of ours. It's such a shame you know. She seemed ever so nice and they did seem happy together but something's gone terribly wrong and well he didn't tell me what it was of course and I mean I wouldn't be so impolite as to ask but he seemed so down earlier and you do know that's not like him Mike. I mean he always has a smile. A heartache is a hard thing to recover from you know? Are you sure he's going to be ok? "

Mike smiled again at Mrs. Peterson's long winded rant and marveled at how she was able to speak so fast without barely taking a breath and he spoke even more urgently, taking one of her hands and placing it at the crook of his elbow as he did and guiding her back towards her door.

"Mrs. Peterson, you really don't have to worry. Steve will bounce back I can assure you and I'm staying over tonight to keep a close eye on him just in case I'm wrong so you can relax Mrs. Peterson and go back inside and sleep in peace. Now remember to lock your door behind you, won't you?"

Mrs. Peterson smiled warmly back as she patted Mike's hand gently.

"That's exactly what Steve always tells me. I must say I feel a lot better knowing he has you for company tonight. Ok, well ... I'll get off to bed so and ... " pausing to turn and face Mike again in her doorway briefly, she added sincerely. " ... you know where I am if you need me for anything. "

"Thank you very much Mrs. Peterson. I'll keep that very much in mind" he cajoled pleasantly as he bade her goodnight and watched as she closed the door and bolted it again from the inside before hurrying back up to Steve. Entering Steve's apartment he spotted Steve stumbling precariously through the living room doorway and hurried forward to grab him as the young man inquired anxiously.

"What is it Mike? Is she alright? "

"STEVE! What do you think you're trying to do? Didn't I tell you to stay put? She's FINE."

Taking Steve around the waist he guided him back to the couch and could tell he was feeling dizzy again by his facial expression. When he had him seated again, Steve slurred uneasily.

"Are you sure she's OK?"

"YES Steve. I'm SURE. She was calling because she was worried about YOU. Boy, you two sure have become quite friendly haven't you? I told you it's that magnetic personality of yours!" he added teasingly, wagging a finger in the young man's direction.

Steve smiled, relieved that his neighbor was ok. He quickly settled back down with a little help from Mike, the effort of trying to go and see what was happening, had used up the last of his energy and his eyelids felt heavy along with the heavy feeling building rapidly inside his brain. Mike pulled up the blanket and spoke in a humorous tone.

"Ok, third time lucky, huh? You try and get to sleep and I'm going to try and get this cup of coffee finally, ok?"

Steve smiled and nodded sleepily and Mike patted his shoulder as he went to leave the room but before he reached the doorway, Steve called out.

"Hey Mike?"

Mike turned in the doorway and looked down at the young man still smiling.

"Yeah?"

"I ah ... I meant what I said earlier Mike. I'm glad you came over. You ah ... well you really helped. Thanks Mike. If you hadn't come over I ah ... think you might have been pulling me out of a seedy bar just like that Charlie Ames guy ..."

Mike smiled and ruffled Steve's hair affectionately.

"Anytime Buddy boy. I'm glad you're feeling a bit easier but I just hope you've learned a valuable lesson that the answer to life's problems isn't found at the end of a bottle OR three!"

"Don't worry I told you ... I HAVE."

"Good. And I hope you remember the second important lesson too?"

Steve's brow furrowed.

"What? Being more choosy around women?"

"Well that too but I was talking about something else?"

"What's that?"

"Whenever you feel you need to sleep on that couch of yours again, make sure you give me a call and talk about what's going on in that stubborn head of yours! Ok?" Mike added,tapping Steve's temple gently as he did. "You know I don't condone you drinking like that again but I must admit it was refreshing to have you admit to not feeling good and telling me things you otherwise would have thought twice about without being a little tipsy. I hope now that you've seen I'm not as judgemental as you might think I'd be and the fact that sometimes well ... sometimes my advice isn't half bad that you might considering opening up and telling me things without the courage you got from those bottles. What do you say?"

Steve blushed and smiled nervously.

"Yeah ... You know, I just might do that."

"Well then I'm especially glad to hear that too Buddy boy ... Now SLEEP!"

Steve laughed and settled back down smiling. He hadn't even felt like smiling before Mike had arrived earlier and so he felt that Mike's company and advice had worked wonders. He heard Mike's footsteps disappear up the hall and it brought back a comforting memory.

He remembered his Grandfather's house one night when he had been around six years old. There had been a huge storm and the thunder and lightning meant that Steve had had trouble falling asleep. He had covered his head in the blanket and as it never let up, an extra loud bang had sent him scurrying out to where his Grandfather had been sitting by the fire, drinking hot cocoa. Steve had ran from his room and practically dived up onto the older man's lap for dear life almost spilling the old man's cocoa in the process. He could almost still smell the pipe tobacco aroma from his Grandfather's discarded pipe and could still hear his Grandfather's unique sounding low chuckle from where he had thrown himself against the older man's chest and he remembered the words his Grandfather had spoken as if they had been spoken just recently.

"Hey there little fella, you shouldn't let those loud bangs scare you, you know? Storms are just loud noise and a big light show, that's all. It's just nature having a temper tantrum. You know Stevey my boy, life's already thrown a fair few storms your way and well ... It's probably going to throw a lot more at you during the course of your life but you've just got to see them for what they are. Just a disturbance. As long as you're with the right company just like now and keep your wits about you, no storm will ever hurt you, you hear me? You just mark my words."

Those words came back so easily into his mind and now they meant even more than they had back then. Storms came in many shapes and sizes and types in life, big and small and Harry had been right. With the right company and person in your corner, you can weather any storm and it can't ever hurt you. With that comforting thought still in the front of his mind and with the comforting sound of Mike pottering around out in the kitchen, Steve finally allowed sleep to claim him.

Out in Steve's small kitchen, Mike finally poured himself a well earned cup of coffee. Piping hot and with just the right amount of sweetness, he took the first sip and sighed with satisfaction. It had been some day and it was thankfully now nearing an end. He wasn't sure what the next day would bring down at Bryant Street or what state his young partner was going to be in but for now he felt they had weathered the current storm together quite well so far. Picking up the cup and fetching himself an extra blanket from the bedroom, he made his way back down the hall to the living room, purposefully taking the phone off the hook as he passed so there would be no more unexpected interruptions. As he entered, he chuckled to himself as he heard the soft, drunken snores of his young partner. Pulling the blanket lightly up over the young man's shoulders, Mike then crossed to the armchair and set the cup down on the coffee table.

As he sat and drank his coffee and studied the sleeping young man, he once more went over everything they had talked about all evening. Another cold shiver went down his spine as he thought about how different tonight could have been, had he not arrived when he did earlier and he suddenly felt extremely grateful for how things had turned out. His young partner had some healing to do and perhaps a whopper of a hang over still to come but with a neighbor like Mrs. Peterson and with his help, Mike was confident he would be just fine. Placing his empty cup back down, he leaned back against the back of the armchair and spread the blanket over himself before grabbing his faithful fedora and placing it over his eyes as he too quickly fell asleep to the comforting sound of Steve's snoring.

 **The End.**

 **A/N There we have it! That was my take on what might have happened next in this episode. Thank you to all those who remained faithfully with me to the end of this story! My heartfelt thanks are yours... x**


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